Light and Shade
by RachelJLewis
Summary: It's four years to the day since Ana walked into Christian's life, or, rather, fell into his office. But is four years all they get? Kate's in the playroom asking questions, Susannah's in his apartment asking for advice and Ana's in London with Sawyer and not answering her phone.
1. Chapter 1

**LIGHT AND SHADE**

**_Authors Note: _**

_This piece is set one year after the epilogue of 'Fifty Shades Freed' and relies on knowledge of the entire trilogy. It's followed by **'Scarlet and Grey,' 'Walking Away,' **and** 'The Devil's Kitchen'** which I hope you'll go on to read. _

_I hope you enjoy it. I always love to know what people think of my stories, so please, if you can, leave a comment._

_Rachel x_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Thank you for this, Christian." Kate, my sister-in-law, kisses my cheek.

"I didn't do anything," I smile. "I just lent you our apartment." Elliot's company Grey Construction is celebrating its tenth anniversary with a party and a showcase of their work. "Glad it comes in handy sometimes," I continue.

"As an exhibition space it's unparalleled and Gail's excelled herself once again. Why does anybody put up with sub-standard catering when they can hire Gail Taylor?"

"She's not for hire," I assure Kate.

"Absolutely not," mutters her husband, Jason, standing a short distance away from us and keeping an ever-watchful eye on the arriving guests. Gail herself is on the far side of the room making sure that the staff hired to distribute the canapés are doing so to her exacting standards. I am not the only person in my life who can display amazing amounts of control-freakery.

Kate takes a sip of champagne. "I'd better do my job and mingle, or else Elliot will find his friends and talk shop all night." A sudden worry creases her brow. "I should call Grace."

"Ava will be fine." I reassure her. You know how much they love having the grandkids over, and all three at once is Grandparent Heaven. They won't want us pestering them every five minutes."

"It's good of them to have them all together."

"Yeah," I pull a face. "And deprive me of all my family in one fell swoop."

"Ana's home on Friday, you only have two more days to get through." She pats my hand.

"Tell me about it. But any excuse to go to London and she's there."

Kate snorts in amusement. "You only have yourself to blame for that, Christian. You were the one who introduced her to the place."

I roll my eyes. "I know. What a monster I've created."

"You love her really."

"Oh, completely. Whenever she's away I feel bereft, vulnerable even."

"Woah." Kate's eyes bug. "Christian Grey feels vulnerable? I wouldn't say that out loud if I were you. Whatever happened to the Master of the Universe?"

I sigh. "He fell in love, got married and had kids. I'm going soft in my old age."

"Yes, how old are you next month, thirty two or fifty two?"

"Fifty two. You can get me a rocker."

Elliot makes his way over and claps me on the back. "I can't thank you enough for this, bro."

"Anytime, Lelliot." I say, using the name I used to call him when I couldn't say his name properly as a kid. "Congratulations on your first ten years." I raise my champagne glass to him.

"Thank you. Say, who are all these people in your apartment, tonight?"

"Well if you don't know then I certainly don't. I thought they were your employees, clients and friends?"

Elliot pointed at them. "Kate, do we know all these people?" He furrows his brow.

"Well apparently _you_ do." She rolls her eyes.

Elliot shakes his head as if something's perturbing him. "We have to go talk to them, don't we?" He sounds scared.

"Yes, darling."

"I need a beer for that." He says.

"In the fridge. Help yourself." I say.

"Cheers." And armed with a beer instead of champagne, Elliot and Kate make their way through the group receiving congratulations as they go.

All through the downstairs of our apartment are displays and models of some of the projects that Grey Construction has done over the last ten years. I took a tour earlier, noticing that our own family home is showcased. The shots were taken just as they finished the work and we've done a little tinkering since then, but only as a result of living in it and seeing things we wanted to add. The basics that Gia designed and Grey Construction built are still in place.

Considering I used to do no end of these events as a single guy, it's taken only four short years to render me all at sea in social situations without Ana. I don't know what to do with myself and wish fervently that I could call her up right now. Just hearing her voice would give me some confidence to get through this. But it's only three in the morning in London and there are four hours to go before our agreed calling time of 7.00am. Gail comes back into the kitchen area and her familiar presence makes me feel more reassured. But she's not dumb and she notices I'm not OK.

"You're struggling aren't you, Mr Grey?" She smiles.

I put my back to the rest of the room and face her. "Is it that obvious?" I ask.

"A little, yes." She refills my glass with champagne. "Take a tip from me, go and stand with Kate. I've never seen anybody work a room like she can. She even puts your sister in the shade."

"I don't think that's possible."

"It is now. She'll protect you." Gail says with a smile. "You…" She tails off and I notice the look of consternation on her face. I follow the line of her gaze and find that she's looking at her husband. He in turn is glowering at the door. I follow the line of his gaze and all at once my blood runs cold.

"Oh fuck." I mutter under my breath. "This can't be happening." Taylor comes over.

"Would you like me to ask her to leave?" He says quietly.

I glance at her again and notice that she's with someone who I can't ask to leave. Mark Grainger, the CEO of Eventis and a person who takes great delight in regularly whooping my ass on the golf course. I have a sinking feeling that this is going to turn into one very awkward evening. "No. She's with Grainger." I think quickly, wondering how I'm going to play this one? I glance over to where Kate is chatting with her guests and know instantly what I need to do. Protect myself. I focus again on the interloper, straighten up and locate a part of myself that I haven't been for a very long time. Out from the kitchen area strides a man coated in invisible armour, a more confident and detached version of Christian Grey and the Master of the Universe is back once more.

Without my usual rock of Ana I head for Kate, seeking the solidarity of my tenacious sister-in-law. Even though the Master of the Universe can take care of himself, there is no harm in aligning yourself with one of the most feared investigative journalists in the Pacific Northwest. But there is a price to be paid for such protection and never one to miss a beat she clocks the change in me instantly. At a suitable break in her conversation, she turns to me.

"I haven't seen _that_ look on you for a very long time." She muses.

I smile enigmatically, say nothing and sip my champagne. Over the heads of the guests I can see Elliot talking to Mark Grainger. He's looking around, possibly searching for Kate. Grainger clocks me and it's clear that it's me they're looking for, not Kate. Showtime Grey.

Mark Grainger is large, bombastic and insufferable. He even makes Elliot look reserved which is a feat in itself. Elliot introduces Kate and I cast a quick glance at the small, brunette-haired woman standing between Elliot and Grainger. A woman who has her eyes averted from me not out of modesty, but out of habit.

"Grey, let me introduce you to my beautiful girlfriend." Grainger booms and I wonder if he's introducing her to the whole of the Olympic Peninsula as well. "I finally have someone to give Anastasia a run for her money. This is Susannah Moss. Susannah, this is Christian Grey the CEO of GEH."

I shake hands with my former sub. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Moss." I reply coolly.

"Likewise, Mr Grey." She too is cool and makes brief eye contact before returning to focus her attention on Grainger, who is now trying and failing to impress Kate. I don't know whether Elliot is aware, but when his wife is irritated by someone she doesn't stand still and shifts from foot to foot constantly.

Grainger turns his attention back to me. "It's a shame that Anastasia isn't here this evening. I was hoping that she and Susannah could get to know one another. It must be a very lonely life being a golf widow, don't you think Grey?" He drops his voice. "I do hope that things are OK between you two?" Beside me I hear Kate's indignant huff.

"My wife is in London this week." I snap. "As for being a golf widow, I don't believe I play enough for her to qualify. We're somewhat busy with our children." I say acidly. Across from me Elliot is fighting back a grin. He can hear the menace in my voice even if Grainger is deaf to it.

"I can't wait for the little guy's party next weekend. Three already, where does the time go?" Elliot does his best to get me onto a subject he knows I excel at, talking about my children. But this version of me is in no mood to share my precious family with this asshole. What on earth is Susannah doing with him? I glance at her and I sense that she's asking herself the same question.

In the absence of Ana, Kate takes up the baton to rescue the conversation from the pit of awkwardness. "Well, time certainly flies when you have children." She smiles at Elliot. "Look at us, Ava's fourteen months old already. Do you want to see a picture?" She says to Susannah and to my former subs' credit she says yes, deflecting the tension that I have created. How dare Grainger come into my home and assume, based on Ana not being here for _one_ event that our marriage is in trouble. If he was standing closer to it, I'd drop-kick the fucker out the window.

"Hey, you OK?" Asks Elliot quietly. "What a crass thing to say."

"It's typical of him."

"Walk with me." My brother asks and I do, leaving Kate boring the pants off Grainger. There's one thing you don't do it's get a Grey talking about their kids, because we don't shut up about them. Mia's the same. Elliot and I can't hold a candle to her and she hasn't even given birth yet.

Elliot steers me through the crowd until we come up against a display of one of the many eco-friendly developments he's worked on. It's impressive and dovetails nicely with the sustainable agriculture projects that I fund through GEH.

"Apart from Kate and Ava, this is my pride and joy." He says. "I want to do more of these. This is making a difference. No offence Christian, renovating rich people's homes may pay the bills, but it doesn't float my boat." He grins at me.

"No offence taken. And my boat floats just fine." I smile and Elliot claps a hand on my shoulder.

"You looked really tense when I pitched up with Grainger. Are you OK? I guess you're missing Ana?"

I exhale, letting some of the tension out. "Yeah, it's turning into a very long week."

"Well, shall we ditch, grab some beers and go shoot some pool in the balls room?"

I grin. "Very tempting, but it's your party. You need to be out here schmoozing the next ten years' worth of business out of your clients."

"I could get you to buy the whole thing and just retire."

"I will if you want me to, but you'd be bored inside a month."

Elliot huffed. "You're right. I best get me some business." He wanders away and I turn to find Taylor standing expectantly beside me.

"Yes, Taylor?"

"Mr Grey, Dr Trevelyan called and reports that Blip Two has been diagnosed as sound asleep, but she's dealing with an outbreak of nonsense from Blip One."

"Oh?" I smile wryly, loving my Mom's assessment of these things. "And does Dr Trevelyan have a course of treatment to recommend?"

"Yes, ignoring it. She predicts it will clear up of its own accord within the hour and that no further parental intervention is required at this time. She will keep you informed should the condition deteriorate."

"That's good to know." I smile.

"Dr Trevelyan also asks that you pass on her love to Mrs Grey when you speak to her later and hopes that you're all up to lunch on Sunday."

"Sunday? OK. I'll check with Ana later. Thanks Taylor."

"Sir, do you need me to intervene at all with…"

"No. I'll cope."

Taylor drops his voice. "She's behind you, sir and she's on her own."

"Ah." I look at him and run my fingers through my hair. How to instantly sour my mood, have a piece of my past turn up in our fucking apartment… again. All the lovely family stuff evaporates and I dig in and pull out my alter ego. "It's OK, I have this," I tell Taylor and he nods and walks away.

I turn around and Susannah looks up on cue.

"Mr Grey," She smiles. "I was just admiring this amazing development. Elliot's wife told me that I should come over and see it."

"Did she now?" I say coolly and glance around for Kate. I spot her and she raises her glass in salute. The look on her face is one of triumph and amusement. She's worked out that Susannah Moss is a piece of my past. And with what Kate knows, she'll know exactly what kind of piece.

"I'm sorry that your wife isn't here tonight. I apologise for what Mark said. That was uncalled for."

"Damn right it was." I snap.

"It's strange to be here again. I very nearly didn't come."

"I wish you hadn't." I'm stunned by my honesty. It must be Ana, her openness is rubbing off on me.

"I'm sorry if this causes you embarrassment."

"I'm not embarrassed, but this is ancient history."

"That part of my life is over, too. I hope."

"I'm really not interested."

"Mr Grey, please." Susannah implores. "I'm only trying to be civil. Please could we speak, privately? I would like your advice on a matter."

"About what?"

"About normal relationships. You have one, I want one. I'm struggling and I think there's a problem with me."

"You're with Grainger, that's the problem. Failing that, make an appointment to see John Flynn."

Susannah drops her voice. "I want to know how you did it? Please? I just want to talk to you."

"No!" I say through clenched teeth. I see Taylor approaching.

"Why not?" Susannah persists.

I glower at her for even daring to question me. "Firstly, I would be going behind my wife's back and secondly, this is not something I talk about."

"Mr Grey, your office is free."

"I won't be needing it. Taylor, give Miss Moss John Flynn's number."

"Yes sir."

I turn on my heel, walk out of the room and go upstairs to the empty second floor of our apartment. Before I know it I'm outside the playroom and knowing that there's a couch in there where I can sit in peace, I fish the keys from my pocket and unlock the door.

In my attempt to be the man I used to be I should walk in here and be the Dominant that I was. But I'm him no longer. I'm Ana's husband and we make love in here. This is our private place where we're not Mommy and Daddy, or Mr and Mrs CEO; we're just Ana and Christian, a married couple who love each other very much and this is just one of the places where we express that love. This room has ceased to be what it was for me and now it's oddly relaxing, as if Ana's very essence has seeped into the walls. It's very calming. I take off my jacket and sit down on the couch, draping it over the back. I cup my head in my hands and try to work out where I am with this. Yes, I'm angry with Susannah for even being here, but on the other hand she wants out of the lifestyle we used to share. I've managed it and she's struggling. Part of me, the Christian that I am now, wants to help. But I know that Susannah's going to need her own version of Anastasia. I couldn't have done it without Ana's love, Ana's patience and Ana's unwillingness to take any of my crap. Flynn can definitely help, but therapy can only get you so far. Most of it has been practical day-to-day working it out, learning to trust Ana and not going insanely overboard about every decision she makes that I don't agree with. I'm still not great at it and I'm a classic over-protective parent. I go nuts whenever Ted hurts himself, but I'm learning to appreciate the difference between the cry of 'I'm a little bit hurt' and 'I'm really hurt.' Phoebe comes with her own bundle of problems; she worries me because she's so unflappable compared to Ted. I know it's because Ted takes after me and Phoebe's definitely rocking her Mom, but I'm desperate for Phoebe to need me and scared that, because she's already so self-contained, that there's not going to be that connection between us that I have with Ted. Ana keeps reminding me that she's only eight months old and there's plenty of time for her to turn into the world's clingiest kid, to which I say bring it on! I just pity the poor guy who gets me as a father-in-law. If he even thinks about doing to my little girl what I did to countless women, he'll find himself in trouble so deep that it'll make the Mariana Trench look like a wading pool.

"So this is it?" A voice startles me and I look up. It's Kate and as I've left the door ajar I can hardly tell her not to come in. She looks around and gives an incredulous laugh. "Wow. Some place you have here, Christian." She wanders straight over to the bed and picks up the leather cuff and chain on the right hand bed post. "This isn't for sleeping on is it?"

"We do, occasionally."

Kate turns to me. "So, judging by your interesting reaction to Miss Moss, I take it that she's a previous sub?"

"Yes."

"Does Ana know?"

"Yes, she's met her."

"What?" Kate scoffs. I get up and walk to the door, close and lock it. I don't fancy Elliot searching for Kate and accidentally sticking his head around the door. "I knew she'd met the one that got into our apartment with a gun, but I didn't know she'd met others."

"She's met Leila and Susannah."

"So what's this one here for?"

"She's with her boyfriend, he's one of Elliot's clients. But she wants to talk to me."

"To talk? About what?"

"About leaving this lifestyle behind."

"But you haven't left it. You still use this place, yes?"

"Ana and I use it frequently."

I sit on the arm of the couch and Kate walks over to the wooden cross on the wall, running her hand over the polished wood. She looks at the grid overhead with various shackles hanging from it. She takes hold of a one of the cuffs and she rubs the leather between her thumb and forefinger. "It's so soft." This clearly confuses her.

"It isn't about inflicting pain, Kate." It used to be, but that side of what this room was for isn't a subject I want to discuss with my sister-in-law.

"So why do you need to tie Ana up?"

"I don't _need_ to tie her up, but we use it to experience a greater sense of pleasure together." I see an involuntary response in her body that she probably doesn't know I can spot. She's turned on. I sense her body language change. She's radiating an intense curiosity and I think it's only fair to assuage it. "Would you like me to put them on you?" I ask and Kate looks over at me, shocked and a little confused, but I can't fail to see the spark of excitement in her eyes. I get up off the couch and walk towards her, seeing the fear that she's crossed a line and this could potentially go anywhere. I need to reassure her. "You're my brother's wife and all I'm going to do is offer to take your wrists and put them in the cuffs so you can experience it. I promise I won't do anything else. Now, do you want to?"

She nods a yes and I take her right arm and clip it into the leather cuff above her head. I do the same with her left. I can hear the change in her breathing and see the flush in her face. I step back to give her space and she turns crimson.

"Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed to be like this, but it's so hot!"

"Exactly. After a while the embarrassment fades and you start to enjoy it." Kate bends her knees and dangles slightly, giving an impromptu giggle.

"This is crazy. Can Elliot and I come and use this place?"

"Absolutely not!" I say sternly. "Kate, you know that Ana and I want to keep this to ourselves. But why don't you and Elliot think about creating a room of your own?"

"Where would we put it?"

"In the basement, in the attic, wherever you want. Obviously it needs a lock on the door. You don't want Ava thinking that it's her playroom, too."

"Where do you get all this stuff from?"

"There are certain suppliers that I can give you the details of. But you don't need anything elaborate to start out with. A lot of the time Ana and I just improvise."

"With what?"

"Anything. Ties, bathrobe belts, food, whatever comes to hand."

"Really? Well, we've done that occasionally." She shrugs.

I shake my head and smile. My brother doing the same things to his wife that I do to mine is not a mental image I want in my head. "Well, well Elliot Grey, you naughty boy." I chuckle.

"I think you eclipse him by some margin, Christian. Can you unclip me?"

"No." I grin, walk over to the couch and sit down, leaving my sister-in-law dangling from the grid of the playroom.

"Christian! I have a party to be at."

"Well you shouldn't have come up here sticky-beaking Mrs Grey. Actually, I should do this to all journalists who ask me too many questions."

She sticks her tongue out at me.

"Very mature, Mrs Grey."

"Oh fuck off Christian." She grins.

I laugh. "Right, I will." I walk to the door, unlock it and leave the room, closing the door behind me which almost, but not quite muffles the shrieks from Kate. I laugh and a movement to the right catches my eye. It's Susannah. I instantly assume my alter ego.

I glare at her. "What the fuck are you doing up here?"

"I was looking for you. I really do want to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

Susannah drags in a deep, ragged breath and fights back tears. "Why are you nice to other women and a complete bastard to those of us who've subbed for you? Why can't you treat us with courtesy? I know you're married now, although what the hell you're doing with another woman in your playroom while your wife is in London is something you'll have to square with yourself, but why can't you be civil to me? I am no less a woman than your wife, Mr Grey. Why do you worship the ground she walks on and wipe your feet on me? What does she have that I don't?"

To the side of me Kate's increasingly angry yells are starting to bleed through the door. I hold my finger up. "Will you excuse me please, I need to go and release my sister-in-law from some shackles." I can't fail to look embarrassed. Susannah laughs and the stupid, insane situation breaks something in me. "Long story." I add, roll my eyes and dart back into the room.

"This is not funny, Christian!" yells Kate. "I could have been here for hours!"

"I was just outside. I wasn't going anywhere."

As I'm unclipping her, a movement at the door catches Kate's attention. "Oh fuck, no. Christian! Ana's only been away three days."

I stare at my sister-in-law. "Kate, think for a minute. What were we talking about before I gave you the option of trying out the apparatus?"

"Oh."

"Yes. Just. Talk."

"That's all I want to do," says Susannah.

"But you shouldn't be doing it behind Ana's back," hisses Kate.

"No, and I won't." I turn to Susannah. "We'll speak, but only if my wife says yes. OK?"

"I can agree to that." I see her eyes flick to the place by the bench where the canes used to be and the raise of her brow as she registers their absence. "I'll wait to hear from you. Goodbye Mr Grey, Mrs…Grey." Susannah vacates the room leaving me to face my slightly pissed-off sister-in-law. She's rubbing her wrists, but the venom has gone. In its place is amusement.

"So, exactly how are you going to explain to Ana that you had me chained up in your sex dungeon?"

"Well, I shall appeal to your sense of honesty to corroborate the fact that this is not a dungeon. You wandered in here after me, I gave you the option of trying the restraints and you said yes. I also want you to add that you were fully clothed, I touched nothing other than your wrists and obeyed you completely when you told me to fuck off." I smirk at her.

Kate wagged her finger at me. "Yeah, this is what I don't get about you. I get your not-so-ex Dom persona, but this jokey, flirty you? That freaks me out."

"I'm Ice Man and I get hauled over the coals. I'm Mr Nice Guy and it freaks people out. I can't win."

"Stick to Ana."

"I intend to."

"Kate!?" Comes the distant shout of Elliot trying to find his wife.

"Shit!" Kate says and darts out of the room. I grab my jacket and follow, turning off the light and locking the door behind me.

"Not a word, please?" I ask of her.

"Of course. But if you could let me have a list of… suppliers?"

"Sure. I'll email it over tomorrow."

Kate is suddenly pink again. "How do you…" She gestures with her hands, searching for the right way to phrase something. "How do you learn how to do this stuff?"

"There are places you can go." I say.

Her mouth drops open. "Really?" And then I see the danger in her eyes, that tenacity that I only see at its max when she has the bit between her teeth in an investigation.

"Kate." I warn. "No. These are people's private lives."

"No… I..."

"There you are!" Says Elliot wandering down the corridor. "Oh yeah?" he drawls. "Why are you so pink?"

"Your brother has been giving me really hot sex tips."

Elliot guffawed. "Yeah right, pull the other one. What Christian knows about sex could be written on a postage stamp. You're married to the one with all the moves, baby. Come on, there are some terminally boring people downstairs that I need you to save me from. Laters Christian."

"Laters." I reply. As long as my brother continues to believe the image I had worked very hard to cultivate before Ana arrived in my life, my secret will stay secret. Elliot pulls Kate away but as they reach the top of the stairs she runs back to me.

"Will you teach me?" She asks in earnest.

Now I'm the one who's crimson. "Um…"

"Ask Ana!" She whispers frantically. "If you won't, perhaps she will?"

I'm shocked, in a good way. "Oh, now, there's a thing."

"Do you think she would?"

What are you whispering about?" Grumbles Elliot.

"Sex tips darling!" Calls Kate and she winks at me. "Do you think she would?" She asks again.

"I don't know. I'll ask her when she gets back from London."

"OK!" Kate plants a quick kiss on my cheek and scampers back down the hall to Elliot.

"Oh, Kate?" I call, feeling suddenly reckless.

"Yes?"

"Lift your legs a little higher and get Elliot to use a little more lube. That seems to do the trick for us." I see her face pink up once again and Elliot's jaw hit the floor. I laugh loudly. "But then again, what do I know about sex?"

Kate pulls Elliot quickly away.

I look at my watch. Nine thirty. An hour and a half before I can call Ana. I guess I could show my face again at the party downstairs. Or I could call my Mom and make sure that Ted's asleep. The party doesn't appeal, but talking about my children does. So I pull out my phone and call my Mom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

"The blue or the cream?" Ana holds up two bras, one in each hand. I don't really care what she wears, she looks fabulous in either one; but it's her way of closing the distance between us and of us getting some intimate time together. As much as can be had when I'm lounging on our bed in the apartment and she's thousands of miles away in a hotel suite in London. She's attending a symposium on future trends in publishing and she's giving me the choice about which underwear she puts on today.

"The blue."

"Excellent choice Mr Grey." She says, as if I've just chosen the wine for dinner. I can't help but grin. On screen, the only woman I ever want to see undressed peels off her robe and lets me watch as she puts on her underwear. "So you know what today is, then?" She asks. "Or, tomorrow for you." She adds as she pulls on her panties.

"Of course. Did you think there was some danger that I'd forget?" Bra forgotten, she sits back down in front of the computer. For a moment she is uncharacteristically coy and I'm instantly transported back to that Monday morning exactly four years ago tomorrow, when she crashed through the doors of my office and fell on her hands and knees at my feet. I've been on mine in worship of her ever since. I lift my hand to the screen and run my index finger down the image of her face.

"No, I know you wouldn't." she replies shyly. "But sometimes I can't believe how this all worked out. Can't believe that I could ever have caught your attention in the way I did."

"Caught my attention? You dazzled me woman." I grin. "And you continue to dazzle me, every day. Especially now," I lean forward and stare at her lasciviously, "When I can't touch you."

Ana wiggles her breasts at me. "Less than forty eight hours and they'll be home."

"And bring the rest of you back too."

"Of course I will. So, I can tell from your expression that it was an interesting night. Are you going to tell me about the party?"

"What expression?"

"You have that 'what the fuck' look about you. Come on, something happened."

"Susannah came, with Mark Grainger."

Ana's brow creases. "Ooh. I bet that wasn't comfortable."

"No." I sigh. "It wasn't."

"What's she doing with him?"

"I have no idea."

"Do you think she's his…?"

"No." I snap and pick at imaginary lint on my pyjama pants.

"Come on. And?"

I smile in incredulity at Ana. "How do you know there's more?"

"Because I do. I make it my business to know you inside and out, Grey. So come on, fess up."

"She wants to talk to me."

"About what?"

"About making the transition into a normal relationship."

"And you're Dr Ruth now?" She laughs.

"I know. Ironic."

"And are you going to talk to her?"

"I said I'd ask you first. I don't want to if you're not happy about it."

"Well thank you for asking me. Do you mind if I think about it for a day or so? Perhaps tell you when I get home?"

"Not at all. Take all the time you need." And in that moment I hope Ana says no.

"Anything else I need to know?"

"I chained Kate up to the playroom grid."

"You did_ what?"_ Ana snorts with laughter. "OK, you need to explain that one to me. And quickly, 'cause I have to go soon."

"As much as I am never going to complain about looking at your bare breasts, can I assume you're going to finish getting dressed before you do?"

She narrows her eyes, they are mocking. "I don't know, Christian. You and Kate, is this a 'thing'? Does Elliot know? Do I need to get my wares out to attract another man?" She wriggles her considerable wares at me again.

"You do and I'll sew you into your clothes."

Ana rolls her eyes.

"No. I was escaping from Susannah," I explain. "I went to find somewhere quiet and used the playroom. Kate followed me in. She seemed curious and I offered her the chance to try out some of the restraints."

"And? What did she think?"

"She liked it." I grin broadly. "She…wants to know more."

"Oh?"

"She's intrigued by the idea of setting up her own room."

"OK. And?" She gestures, pushing me on.

I scoff. "Ana? Are you psychic?"

"No, just married to you. Come on, tell me the real big ticket item. I can almost see it."

"She asked me to teach her."

Ana's jaw tightens. "No." She says vehemently. "Absolutely not. I couldn't…" I see the shudder go through her.

"Ana, it's fine, I won't. I would be deeply uncomfortable with it too."

"I know you taught me, but…"

"Ana, don't worry, I know."

"It's too intimate."

I can tell this is a huge issue for her by how deeply she's unsettled. I long to be there to soothe her and something in my chest starts to ache.

"Kate asked if you would do it?" I venture.

_"What?"_ Her eyes are wide. "Is she serious? I can't teach her. I'm always on the receiving end."

"I could teach you and then in turn you could teach her."

Ana shakes her head. "No. If you show me how the magic's done then it stops being magic anymore."

"What I do isn't magic, Ana."

She's instantly coy again. "It feels like it to me." Ana looks at me from under her lashes and I'm all but punching my way through the computer screen to get to her. She groans. "Look, I'd better go. There's a breakfast meeting downstairs at seven thirty and I'm speaking." She grabs her bra and puts it on. Her body's softer than it was four years ago, but no less wonderful. Two babies have put her breasts up a cup size and she's getting irritated, I know, that they're starting to gently head south. But I don't care; they're still gorgeous. I know them so well, know every inch of how they feel and look and the way they respond in my hands. I know how all of her looks and when she's away I can take a mental tour of her body just by closing my eyes. And I frequently do. I've been pulled out of endless intimate reveries to find myself staring blankly at a balance sheet and expected to deliver a decision to a room full of people. To the question _'Mr Grey, what do you think?'_ my answer of _'Your right buttock is slightly cuter than your left.'_ Is not what my senior managers want to hear. It's what she does to me and she worries that I'll ever forget May 9th 2011?

"Sawyer and I are going to stop by Hamleys at lunch and pick up gifts for the baby, Ted and Phoebe. Would you like something?" She knows that I've developed a silly passion for children's toys. What can I say? As Ted grows he's developing a love of planes and boats and the only correct response for a Daddy is to share it. We already have his birthday gifts picked out although Ana is convinced we've actually bought for me, not him.

"I'll trust your impeccable judgement in that regard." I reply stretching out on the bed. I'm tired, not least after what's happened tonight. And without her the days are long and the afternoons and evenings are a struggle to get through while she's asleep in London.

"Hmm…" She purrs. "You complain about you not being able to touch me. You're not the only one who struggles with the lack of touch. Get on the plane and get your ass over here now, Grey. I want you."

"Oh Ana, don't tempt me. Seriously, don't be surprised to find me there for dinner, it's been tough week and I want you home so badly that I might have to come and get you."

She touches the screen at her end. "I know. Just two more days and then I'll be home." She bites her lip and there's an instant reaction in my pants. "You think your folks are up for a little more babysitting? I fancy staying at Escala all next week."

"Do you now?" I grin. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

In London she rolls her eyes and laughs. "What are we like, palming the kids off on their grandparents so we can run off to have sex."

"We're no different to anyone else."

"I don't think that many couples run off to do what we do, Christian."

"True."

Ana pulls a face. "I have to go."

"Don't, stay here, I need you. I'm going to have to gaffer tape my cock down until you get home."

"Yeah, don't do that. I don't want you being the talk of the ER when they try to remove it." She moves closer to the screen. "Kiss me?"

I oblige through the flat interface of a screen. It's deeply unsatisfying, but the best we can do.

"Sleep well." She says gently.

"Eat well." I smile and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh Mrs Grey. Are you rolling your eyes at me? Perhaps it's time to wind the clock back and remind you how much I dislike that particular reaction."

She raises a sardonic eyebrow. "Mr Grey, this time around, it would be me who'd be issuing you with the contract."

"Oh really?" I get comfy, knowing that this will delay her longer, but she sees through my ruse.

"Christian, stop distracting me. I have to go. You'll make me late."

"I could make you later…" I growl, teasing down my pants.

"No, no, no, you save that for me when I'm back."

"Come home now." I groan. "God, I miss you."

She strokes the computer screen. "I miss you too. Call me the instant you wake up."

"I will."

"Today's session finishes at four thirty and then there's the event this evening, so I'll be back here for about five. You can help me dress for dinner."

"I'll look forward to being late to the office because of it."

She hugs herself in glee. "Have you and Andrea done any work this week without the two of us being there?"

"No. She gripes about being pregnant and mopes about over Sawyer and I mope about over you. Between us we've gotten fuck all done."

"I'm sure the GEH balance sheets look all the better for that. Any further thoughts about a leaving present for Luke and Andrea?"

"No, I'm not letting them leave."

"Christian, you know they can't be at our beck and call twenty four hours a day, not with a new baby."

"I know. But…" I gripe. "I have to break in a new P.A. I hate doing that."

Ana snorts. "And I made you get rid of all your whips. Oh dear."

"Yes and I'm nice to work for now, apparently." I eye my wife grumpily. "How did that happen?"

"It's called being in love."

"I'm discovering that. We miss you, it's a tough week for us both and we're doing our best, here."

"I'm glad to hear it. Luke's missing her as desperately as I'm missing you. Now sleep Mr Grey." She admonishes me.

"Yes Mrs Bossy."

She eyes me and laughs. "Hmm…" She says and for a second she looks a little lost. Then she gives her head a shake and kisses her computer screen once more. "I love you." She says tenderly.

"I love you more." I say and it makes her giggle.

"You're a bad man, Christian Grey, you're making me late for my own presentation!"

I throw up my hands. "I didn't touch you."

"You don't need to. You have your four other senses wreaking their havoc. Now shut the lid of your computer and go to sleep."

"OK."

"Kiss and hug Teddy and Phoebs for me."

"I will."

"I'll catch you later."

"Laters baby."

"I love you, Christian."

"I love you Ana." And with that we finally break the connection.

I move the computer off the bed and put it on the bedside table. I check my BlackBerry one last time and settle down on Ana's side of the bed. The sheets are fresh and don't smell of her, but I know her well enough to imagine her lying here. I reach behind me and grab one of my pillows, hugging it to me as thoughts of my beautiful wife and our children soothe me to sleep.

"Mr Grey, Sir?"

I force my eyes open at Taylor's concerned tone of voice and struggle up onto my elbows. I glance at the clock; it's just gone 5am. "What's the matter?" I ask.

"Sir, there's been an explosion in Central London." I instantly sit up and all sleep is banished from me.

"Where?"

"Regent Street."

"Oh no…" It's lunchtime in London and Hamleys is on Regent Street.

"Sir we can't raise either Mrs Grey or Sawyer."

I run both hands through my hair, anchoring them in there, pulling at my scalp, as within me every worse-case scenario I have ever imagined comes back out to torture me. I struggle to breathe. "OK. I'll be there." I gasp for air. "Just give me a minute."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I can barely think straight enough to pull on some clothes and for a moment I am disorientated and unsure of where Taylor's office is located. By some chance I wander far enough to find it and blunder into Gail as she's leaving. She steadies me and smiles with nervous tension.

"I've made some coffee. Can I get you anything to eat?" I shake my head. How can I possibly think of eating at a time like this? "OK. Let me know if you do." She adds and departs. I go into the office. Taylor is on the phone and on the large TV screen fixed to the wall he has BBC News on and the scene of utter carnage makes my stomach churn. I bolt out of the room, running hell for leather over to the kitchen sink and heave dryly into it. _My Ana!_ I retch again, but still nothing comes and the effort of it makes my eyes water. Eventually, I regain a little composure. Gail is leaning on the counter a little way down from me and places an empty glass on it. "Jason's on the phone to the conference centre at the moment." She says. "He's already called the number that's been issued by the British government and given Mrs Grey's and Sawyer's details. They said they'll call back when there's news." I nod, fill the glass from the cold faucet and take a sip.

"Are there any reports of casualties, yet?" I ask.

"I think it's a little soon for that. Jason's trying to establish what time the conference broke for lunch, to give an indication of when they might have left. It's one fifteen over there. If they broke for lunch at one then they're unlikely to be in the vicinity of Regent Street yet."

"And their cell phones aren't working?"

"Mrs Grey's is going straight to voicemail. Sawyer's is not connecting."

"OK." I take another sip of water and try to take regular, deep breaths. I wander over to the window and look out onto a gray Seattle morning. The city is shrouded in mist and it's raining. Why today? Is this all I get to have of Ana, four years to the day? I rest my head against the cool glass and the thought that I might never see her again makes it so hard not to cry. And ultimately, it's impossible not to and tears that I have only recently learned how to shed roll down my cheeks. People glibly talk about their partners being the love of their life, but Ana is truly that for me. There'll never be anyone else and if she's been taken from me, there'll be nothing left of me to call human. Whoever this is, if they've killed Ana they might just as well kill me too. Devastation galvanises into rage. Who's done this? Who is it that I need to take a fucking baseball bat to, for inflicting this on me and Andrea too, I suddenly realise. It's not just me in this. I brush the tears from my eyes and stalk back to Taylor's office. He's dialling another number and stops when I come through the door.

"Does Andrea know?" I ask.

"I haven't called her yet, Mr Grey. I know she gets up at six so I was going to wait until then."

"Sawyer's parents?"

"I've tried already, they're out. I've left a message asking them to call me."

"Where are they?"

"Minneapolis."

"OK. Gail said you called the… number, thing." I can barely get words out of my mouth.

"Yes. I've left both their details and they will do their best to find them for us. Would it be easier for you if went to London, Mr Grey?"

"Yes, it would. But it's not just me now, is it?"

"I'm sure Miss Gibson, Gail and your parents would look after the children and would understand that you want to be with Mrs Grey."

"No, I want Ted and Phoebe to be where I am. I don't like that we're all in separate places, right now. What does Astrid have planned for the children today?

Taylor checks his computer. "Phoebe has a health check at nine thirty this morning, other than that, nothing. Ted is going to an arts event this afternoon."

"Tell Astrid to drop Phoebe to me when she's done."

"And Ted?"

"Ask her to bring him over after he's finished. He loves getting covered in paint I won't deny him that pleasure."

"I take it you're not going back to the house, Mr Grey?"

"No. I'm going to the office. Andrea will make it in so there's no reason why I shouldn't. Better to find something to do whilst we wait for news."

"I could call Miss Parker and ask her not to come in."

I smile. "If I know her, she won't listen." I'm aware that a familiar detachment has settled over me. My emotion overload earlier must have shorted something out and once again I'm operating from a very familiar numbness - a very familiar pre-Ana numbness. "Call Andrea now and tell her that I will be in the office but not to force herself to come in if she'd rather stay home. Megan will have to deal with it."

"Yes Mr Grey."

I glance back up at the newsfeed. I can't watch it. I can't believe that Ana and Sawyer are caught up in it. If I believe that, I will be beyond useless. For my own ability to get through the day I have to hold fast to the hope that this is just broken communications, and any minute now Ana will call me. She'll know I'll be worrying.

I endeavour to start a normal day and head down to Escala's gym. At this hour it's deserted and I get on the running machine, but I've barely done a mile, when I realise that my heart's not in it this morning and I slide off the treadmill feeling more drained than if I'd run ten times the distance. I feel the pounding of my heart and the vicious ache that has set up inside. I vaguely toy with the idea of working through my weights routine but dismiss it when someone else comes in and I head back up to the apartment. As I make my way to the bedroom, I stop by Taylor's office.

"Miss Parker will be in work as normal." He says.

"I told you." Just then there is a change in the tone of the presenters' voice that grabs my attention and a large red _Breaking News_ banner appears on the bottom of the screen. The BBC are reporting two people dead and seventeen injured. My stomach roils once again and I take a huge breath to try and settle it. Two people dead. It's in my nature to expect the worst to happen and this simple statement fells me as if I've been kicked in the stomach. I stagger backwards and sink slowly down the wall. Taylor hurries over but I remain where I've slumped and gawp at the screen. "Please, no." I whisper.

"I really don't think you should attempt to go into the office, sir," says Taylor. "Let me take you to the house."

"No." I say and pull myself up, as if girded to retaliate for being kicked. "I need to go. If Andrea's there, she'll be in the same state as me. We can be company for one another." I walk unsteadily from the room and down to the bedroom. Out of the window I can see that the rain is coming down harder now, mirroring my own bleak mood. I strip off and get in the shower, washing myself on something like autopilot and trying not to think about the images I've seen; of broken glass, chunks of masonry, twisted metal and lumps of things that I hope are not people. That I hope are not my Ana.

I dress and have myself ready to go to the office for six. Gail offers me more food, but I decline. I don't trust my stomach enough yet to eat, but I accept a cup of coffee, which she puts in a travel mug and I sip as Taylor winds through the light Thursday morning traffic. I give the Grey House security guys a shock as I stride through the door three hours before I'm due. They rise to their feet behind the reception desk and I nod briefly as I pass through the barrier and head for the elevator. I'm under the impression that I'm the only one in, until the moment the doors slide open on the twentieth floor, to reveal a familiar blonde-haired woman sat in her usual place behind the desk.

As I approach, her face crumples and I notice that her eyes are red from crying. "Oh Andrea." I say and make my way behind the desk. She stands up to reveal the 35 week old reason that she's leaving me shortly after six faultless years' service. I dispense with any protocol about what is and what is not appropriate for a CEO, and hold her as she sobs onto my jacket. She and Sawyer are almost like family, Luke looks after Ana and Andrea looks after me. "As soon as Taylor knows anything he'll be in touch." I reassure her, but it's just as much for me too. Both our loved ones are missing and right now we might as well be the other side of the galaxy, not just the planet. I have never felt so far away, or so useless. I might want to fly to London and search for them myself, but all I would be is another frantic husband getting in everyone's face until I find who I'm looking for. As much as it goes against the grain, everything Ana has taught me about trust distils into this moment. I am powerless and I am forced to trust the authorities in Britain to find Ana and Luke, care for them if they're injured and contact us when they can. For me who has lived so much of his life under perfect control, it's the biggest of asks.

"I'm so worried." Whispers Andrea.

"Me too." I confess. "Have you eaten this morning?" She shakes her head. "Me either. Suddenly, I find myself unable to take my own advice."

"Shall I get you some coffee?" Andrea asks.

"Coffee would be…No, you sit down, I'll get coffee. Can I get one for you?"

"Herb tea please. Leave the bag in."

Andrea returns to her seat and starts sifting through the morning's email. I stroll off to the small kitchen and fix drinks for us both. There are a stack of cookies in here and, opening a cupboard, I find what can only be described as baby paraphernalia. Today won't be the first day that one or both of my children has ended up with me and now I know where Andrea is able to magic up spare diapers from. She really is an exceptional PA and I'm not looking forward to having to work with anyone else.

When I return she is stapling together some sheets and doesn't look at all happy.

"What's up?" I ask, putting her tea down by her keyboard.

"I've found one."

"Found what?"

"Someone who can replace me."

"Oh? Are you sure such a person exists?"

"I was beginning to doubt it. I've trawled through literally hundreds of applications and found only a few that come close. But I've just read one that ticks all the boxes."

"They shouldn't be applying if they don't tick all the boxes."

Andrea shakes her head. "They all meet the specified criteria; but I'm looking for someone who appreciates that this job can sometimes mean getting called at three in the morning."

I pull a face. "That wasn't a very considerate thing of me to do."

She smiles. "To be fair you haven't done that for a very long time, but they need to know that's what you expect. I'm looking for someone with that experience and I've just found one. They're going on my short list."

"Can I see?" She hands me the print out and on it specific lines have been blacked out. It's our Human Resources' policy not to allow us to be discriminatory. Sadly, I fall foul of my own organisation, because in the final selection for my senior staff and those who work closely with me, I have been known to discriminate against women with brunette hair. But I've coped with Natalia on my flight staff, so perhaps I should ease off on that policy? It was done for a very specific reason and Ana now completely voids the reason, anyway. "When are we interviewing?"

"The closing date is tomorrow. We have first interviews a week Monday, with call backs that Friday to meet you."

I narrow my eyes. "You know how I feel about you working so close to your due date. You need to rest."

"Mr Grey, I shall do this job until the moment my first contraction hits. Right now, it's all that's keeping me going." She exhales and rubs her upper abdomen.

"I don't want you to leave."

"I don't want to leave, either. I've loved doing this job. Even when you scared the shit out of me at first, I got used to that. And now you're easy to work for. Well, most of the time." She smiles. "But I can't give this job what it needs if I have a baby."

"Was I really that scary?"

"You were terrifying. And then do you remember the first day that Mrs Grey, I mean Miss Steele came here?"

I grin. "Yes. Do you know that it's four years ago today?"

"No, really? Wow. Time flies. I remember that day so clearly because do you remember what you did for the first time?"

I furrow my brow. "No?"

"You cancelled a meeting on a whim. You'd never done that before. It was one of the things your previous PA Karen told me when I started, that you were so impeccably organised that you never just cancelled meetings, ever. They were always rescheduled well in advance. And that day you just did it. Like that. What did she do to you in there, club you over the head?"

I laugh. "Something like that, yes."

"These last four years since Mrs Grey's been around, I've gotten to witness a man who has just… it's the wrong word I know, but… blossomed."

"No, it's not the wrong word. I've come alive since I've met her. There isn't a day where I don't thank my now sister-in-law for being sick the day she was supposed to interview me. If she hadn't drafted in her roommate, you could still be working for Iceman."

"I think we would have buried the ice pick in your head by now." Andrea grins and I throw back my head and laugh heartily. Oh I was such a nightmare. The phone rings. "Wow, who's calling before seven?" Andrea grumbles. "Mr Grey's office Andrea Parker speaking." She says clearly. "Oh, hello Mrs Grey. Yes, he's right here." Andrea mutes the phone. "Katherine Grey."

My heart sinks a little, wanting to speak to my Mrs Grey. "Put it through." I pick up my briefcase and go through to my office. Grabbing the phone off the cradle I walk over to the window with it.

"Kate."

"Christian! Have you heard from Ana, is she OK?"

I pull the blinds open. "She hasn't called, her cell goes straight to answerphone." I reply sadly. The rain is running in rivulets down the window. For May it sure feels like March.

"I know I just tried. Is she where the explosion was?"

"She was due to go to a store on Regent Street this lunchtime, yes." I admit, with a choked voice.

"Oh Christian! I'm coming down there." She hangs up before I get the chance to tell her there's no need. I replace the phone in the cradle and look up, straight into the eyes of Ana as she gazes down at me from my office wall and the pain in my chest grows stronger. I rotate José's pictures of her from time to time and at the moment I have giggly Ana up there. On my desk I have three photographs; our wedding picture, a picture of Teddy and Phoebe and one of the four of us that was also taken by José, at Ava's first birthday celebrations back in March. There are countless others on my BlackBerry and my laptop, not all of which are suitable to leave circulating on a screensaver.

I toy with the idea of switching the TV on, but decide against it. The news websites will give me sufficient information until I have something I actually wish to hear. I switch on my laptop and let it collect the morning's emails to try and distract myself from the growing worry within.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The morning has been surprisingly busy. When your wife and her security detail are missing, it's amazing how much work that generates. I called Carla straight after I spoke to Kate and called Ray as early as I dared. Both are understandably worried about Ana and I've asked that Taylor keeps them as much in the loop as I am. As soon as I know, they'll know. I've also spoken to Hannah, Ana's PA and asked her to keep a lid on things at Grey Publishing. This might turn out to be nothing, so there's no sense in creating undue alarm. I've asked Ros to keep what she can off my desk today and Andrea is a past master at acting as the gatekeeper on Fortress Grey. But regardless of asking people to go through Andrea or Ros, there are some people who bypass both and call my cell direct. Out of those I have chosen only to respond to family this morning. Everyone else can leave a message and I'll reply in my own time.

Kate has set up a makeshift office in one of the meeting rooms and is making herself useful by calling her contacts who work for London newspapers.

"An Anti-Capitalist group are claiming responsibility," she tells me later when more is beginning to be known. "They're protesting ahead of the G8 summit next month."

"So people who don't like rich people have attacked stores where rich people go to shop?" I say sardonically. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Kate shrugs. "I don't know. I'm just reporting the facts. Hamleys appears to have escaped with nothing more than busted front windows."

That makes me feel a little better. If they made it to Hamleys early, they could be fine and this could be nothing more annoying than a cellphone outage. Just then, there's a strange, uneven knock at the door which instantly has me alert. The door doesn't open and instead there's some muttering from the other side of it. Kate looks at me with amusement before the door finally bursts open and a small, copper-haired boy trips and falls onto his hands and knees in the doorway.

I grin from ear to ear and rise from my seat. Of all the days Teddy could have done that, he does it today of all days. Unlike his Mom, I'm not quick enough to retrieve him, as he's up on his feet like lightning and running towards me. As he reaches me I grab him and hoist him up into my arms. He wraps his arms around my neck and the world is instantly a better place now my children are here. Now I just have to find my wife. Astrid follows with Phoebe, who is happy and bouncing in Astrid's arms, unaware of the heartache I'm going through because I don't know where Mommy is right now, or even if she's OK. My intern Megan follows with a box of toys and a large, soft, circular cushion for Phoebe to sit in. Where on earth do they store these things?

"So did you have a nice time with Grandma and Grandad last night?" I ask.

Teddy nods.

"And did you go to sleep when Grandma said it was time?"

Teddy nods again.

"Are you sure?" I ask him, knowing full well that he didn't.

"I ate all my macaroni." Ted says, a true master of the deflection tactic even at this tender age.

"Good boy."

"And Grandad made me pancakes."

"Did he now?" I smile. "So Grandma wasn't there for breakfast?" Mom would never let Ted have pancakes for breakfast if she were there.

"No. She goed to the hospital." Ted says slowly and seriously.

"To make the children better?" I say and Ted nods before dropping his head on my shoulder. I hold him a little tighter. His Grandma has a special gift for making children better and I think Ted is a little in awe of that. I know another little copper-haired boy who once felt much the same.

I have some time with Ted before Astrid takes him off for lunch and his activity this afternoon. I've told Teddy to paint me lots of pictures and I know he'll come back with a great stack of boats and aeroplanes, or things that are supposed to be boats and planes, but just look like daubs however hard you squint.

With everyone gone I sit down on the floor in front of Phoebe, who is sat in the cushioned ring and babbling animatedly. She gives little excited huffs and her bright eyes sparkle as I reach for her, lift her out of the cushion and cradle her in my lap. She's a mini Ana all blue eyes and gently curling wisps of dark hair. And right now I need things that connect me to my wife; the photographs, our children, memories of everything that we've been through over the last four years and not all of it was easy. Phoebe flaps her arms and makes happy little shrieking noises before she inevitably decides that it's fill-the-diaper time. There are downsides to parenting.

I wander out of my office with Phoebe firmly grasped under one arm and the change bag slung over my shoulder. I don't really want my office stinking of poop for the rest of the day. Andrea grins and Megan looks positively shocked. Haven't you ever seen a man change a diaper before, kid? I think disingenuously. Perhaps I should invite Andrea along so she can get some practice? I wander round the corner and spy that the small meeting room is free. Great, no need to trek down to the company crèche on the third floor. I haven't even put Phoebs down before Kate's in there with me. "Have you taken to following me?" I ask, joking about her appearance in our playroom last night.

"No. I'm just at a loose end."

"You could go back to your office?"

"True. But I like hanging out here. I've been talking to some of your senior staff."

"Oh?"

"I thought it might be time for the definitive interview on you and I've been collecting some background information."

"Have you now?" I glower. Kate knows my distaste for all journalists. Well, apart from her. "I'll do your feet too next time." I jest.

She scoots closer. "Yeah, about that…"

"Kate." I glare. "Not here!" I pull the cover off the change bag, spread it out on the floor and lie Phoebe gently down on it.

"Mr Grey?" Megan says from the doorway. "Huang Meien is on line two."

"Uh… I'm a little busy right now. Can you tell her I'll call back in ten minutes?"

"You take the call, I'll do this." Says Kate.

"No, I'm fine. Megan, tell her I'll call back."

"Yes, Mr Grey."

"CEO Christian Grey regularly ignores calls from important overseas clients, so he can focus on changing his daughter's diaper." Kate trills as if she's writing her piece.

I laugh. "Huang Meien isn't overseas, she's in Oakland."

"Oh."

I pull out the things I need from Phoebe's change bag.

"Look, about last night." Kate starts again. I glance up.

"Close the door." I say. She does and comes back.

"I don't want you to think that things aren't great between Elliot and me, but… Well, sometimes he's a little selfish."

"I guess you don't mean that he eats all the pretzels?"

"No although he does that too. It's just that… he does things and I know he's trying to… like, make it great for me, you know? But…" She sighs. "Oh, this is really hard to talk about."

"Just say it Kate, there's nothing you can shock me with."

"I know, which is freaky in itself."

I give a wry smile and start to undo Phoebe's clothes. There's another knock at the door and it's Megan again. "Yes?" I ask.

"Mr Sullivan needs a minute."

"Right now?"

"Um… Yes."

"OK."

Barney wanders into the room. "Mr…oh." He notices Phoebe on the floor. "This is a bad time. Megan should have told me what you were doing. Are you learning how to do that?"

"What? No. I can do this with my eyes shut!" I chuckle.

"I hate doing diapers." Barney grumbles.

"You have kids?" Says Kate, shocked. "You don't look old enough to have kids."

"My wife and I have two year old twin girls."

I feel suddenly very chastened that I don't know that a valued member of my staff, is both married and a father.

"I'll let you attend to the important stuff, Mr Grey. Our computer servers can wait a few minutes." Says Barney.

"OK." I reply and Barney shuts the door behind him.

"Is your life always like this?" asks Kate. "Constant interruptions?"

"It can be, yes. Right Phoebs, brace yourself girl. I'm going in."

There is yet another knock on the door.

"Oh go away!" Shouts Kate.

The door opens anyway and it's Elliot looking uncharacteristically smart in a suit. "Well, I love you too baby."

"Oh Elliot!" Kate jumps up. "Sorry. Christian's trying change Phoebe and he keeps getting interrupted." They kiss.

"It's tough at the top, eh, bro?" Elliot grins. "I came to offer you some moral support. Is there any news, yet?"

"No." I sigh. Concentrating fully now on the task in hand. Phoebe, bless her giggles and smiles at me whilst I clean her up.

"The casualty figures are looking pretty bad." Elliot comments and my mood instantly plummets. My face must convey something to Phoebe, as her little bottom lip starts to quiver and she suddenly wrinkles her face up and starts to cry. I hurry to complete the job, wrap her in a clean diaper, do up her clothes and instantly scoop her up.

"Let me clear up for you." Says Kate. "You see to Phoebe."

"Mom's on her way in." Elliot says.

"Am I playing host to everyone today?" I ask trying to comfort Phoebe.

"I think so. Although I can't stay too long I have a meeting in an hour. I guess Mia will pitch up sooner or later. She can child mind for you."

"If I wanted a childminder I'd have gotten Astrid to take her. I want her here."

"And where's Teddy?"

"He's got something this afternoon. Astrid's bringing him over later."

"I can't get used to this. Us being fathers, Christian. What the fuck happened to us?"

"Well if I remember rightly," says Kate. "You both gate-crashed our finals celebrations." She grins at her husband.

"Yeah." Elliot turns to me. "I never asked you. What was with the tearing through the streets of Portland to get to Ana, that night?"

"I don't think he wanted José to get there first." Cackles Kate.

"Seriously?" Elliot looks at me.

"No." I grumble

"So, you really did make Taylor drive like a bat out of hell, just so that Ana could throw up on your feet?"

"Well, I hadn't bargained on that when she drunk dialled me."

"She drunk dialled you?"

"Elliot you know this." Gripes Kate. "I've told you how they got together."

I raise an eyebrow at Kate, wondering precisely what she's told my brother about how Ana and I got together.

"I don't think I've ever seen Ana really drunk." Says Elliot. "Oh yes I have, your secret thirtieth. Ha ha!"

"We were all drunk that night," qualifies Kate. And we were. As birthday parties go, having a second secret one a week later just for me, Ana, Kate, Elliot, Mia and Ethan, was an inspired move; although there's still a dent in Elliot and Kate's banister where I thought it was a good idea to demonstrate how crap I am at golf.

We leave the confines of the small meeting room and return to my office. I check in with Taylor but there's been no news and I have a few difficult minutes where I cling on to Phoebe for all I'm worth. It's made doubly difficult that my Mom and Mia arrive just when I'm at my lowest and the tears make a re-appearance.

"You have just got to be patient." She says. They won't call until they're certain. I know. I've been there."

After composing myself and touching base with Ros. I walk back into my office to find that Andrea has been her usual organised self and arranged lunch platters. My Mom is trying to get Phoebe interested in carrot sticks, but she's not there yet. Give the girl cooked broccoli though and it's like you're feeding her chocolate. I have to smile. Elliot's right. I'm thinking about broccoli. What the fuck happened to us?

On the day Ana fell into my office, the thought of my family congregating here would have filled me with dread. And yet today it's nice, reassuring even. Likewise, sharing my life with a woman who didn't agree to my every whim would not have occurred to me, and kids were for other people. For well-adjusted people. For people who didn't beat the shit out of women to get their kicks. And look at me now? The only thing I have in common with that man is that I share his name. I may look like him, but I bear no resemblance to him inside. I never used to like kids, and now I'm getting withdrawal symptoms because my claim on Phoebe is two aunts and a Grandma down the pecking order.

If the worst comes to the worst, Ted and Phoebe will be fine. I… No, I can't think of life without Ana. I can't allow myself to believe that she's one of the twenty seven dead from this bomb attack so far. Not until someone tells me. Not until I see her. Not until I place her in the ground at her favourite spot in the meadow and even then she'll always be in my heart. With my family tucking into lunch and me still not able to eat a thing, I gravitate over to Andrea.

"How are you holding up?" I ask.

"I'm just glad it's busy." She says. "It's keeping my mind off things. But every time there's a lull I can't help worrying about him. And wishing." She admits.

"Wishing what?"

"That we'd stopped dreaming of the impossible and gotten married cheaply instead."

"What do you mean? Dreaming of the impossible?"

She sighs. "We've been saving to afford a Christmas wedding in Lapland."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Why didn't you say? We will gladly pay for you and Luke to have a wedding in Lapland. In fact, let that be our gift to you as a thank you for all the two of you have done for us. Please?"

Andrea places her fingers over her mouth and tears appear in her eyes. "If Luke's still around to get married to!" she gasps.

I lean over the desk and place my hands on her shoulders. "You and me, we have to believe, until someone tells us otherwise. Agreed?"

"She nods. Will you and Mrs Grey come if we invite you?"

I smile. "You just try and stop us. Although, we'll have to bring the children. Can you imagine the ruckus if we go to see Santa Claus and don't take Ted?"

Andrea laughs. It's a strange new world that she's only a few weeks away from. But it's a world that's brought me untold joy, along with more worry than is healthy. I just hope that Andrea is not forced by tragedy to do this as a single parent.

The phone rings. "Mr Gray's office, Andrea Parker speaking." Within seconds I see the colour drain from her face as she listens to the person on the other end of the line. "One moment please." She puts them on hold and looks at me. "It's St Thomas's Hospital in London, for you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Put it through to the small meeting room, please Andrea." I ask and dash to the room. I close the door and try to compose myself as the telephone starts to ring. My knees buckle and I slump in the chair rather heavily. The arm that reaches out to pick up the handset seems to weigh a ton. I bring it to my ear. "Christian Grey speaking." I say. That's all he's doing. He's certainly not breathing.

"Mr Grey? Hello. My name's Gillian Reynolds from St Thomas's Hospital in London," says a very well-spoken English woman. "I understand that you're looking for someone who may have been involved in the incident today. Can I confirm a few details, please?" The tone of her voice instantly reassures me that she isn't calling to tell me that Ana is dead.

"Yes." I reply and my brain tells my lungs to take a breath.

"Could you give me the full name of the person, please?"

"Anastasia Rose Grey."

"And her date of birth?

"September 10th 1989."

"And your relationship to her?"

"I'm her husband and next of kin."

"Thank you sir and we're sorry to have kept you waiting so long for information. This has been down to the sheer number of calls we've had to make today. Mr Grey, I can tell you that Anastasia is with us at St Thomas's and was injured into today's blast."

I put my hand over my mouth. "How… How badly?"

"She's sustained a concussion, fractures to the nose, right cheek and ribs and will be having surgery overnight to remove some glass and metal that are embedded in her legs. She's fully conscious and not giving the medical staff any other cause for concern."

Relief that she's not in any danger pours through me. The anguish at how badly she's injured will follow later. "Thank you." I gasp out.

"You're welcome sir. I'll let the ward know that I've spoken to you. At the moment Mrs Grey is on a Medical Assessment Ward, but after surgery she'll be transferred onto one of the main wards."

"Could I arrange for Mrs Grey to be moved to a private room, please?"

"Yes, of course. I'll make a note that she's to be transferred to the Westminster Unit."

"Thank you."

"Would you like me to pass on any personal message to Mrs Grey?"

Where on earth do I start with what I wanted to say to Ana right now? I guess I should opt for conventionality. "Yes. Could you tell Mrs Grey that her husband and children love her very much and that we'll see her as soon as we can?"

"I'll make sure that she gets it. Thank you Mr Grey."

"Excuse me, but is there any news about the man she was with, Luke Adam Sawyer?"

"Are you his next of kin?"

"No. I'm his employer."

"I'm sorry, but I'm unable to share that information, other than with the next of kin."

"I understand."

"Thank you Mr Grey."

I end the phone call and replace the handset with a trembling hand. Ana is OK, injured, but OK. I am so thankful, but now there's only one place that I want to be. I pick up the phone again and call Stephan, my pilot and make provisional arrangements to fly to London this evening. I call Ray, Ana's dad, who's his usual brief-and-the-point self, but just as relieved as I am to hear that we've had news from London. The call to Carla takes longer and involves a lot of crying on her part and a lot of trying not to on mine. Tears are something I've been making up for not having during my first twenty eight years. They come with more ease than I would like. I cry over everything; my children, my beautiful wife, amazing sunsets, films – sheesh. It's like I'm experiencing emotion for the first time watching a film these days. Especially ones where the guy fucks up, but the girl sticks around or gives him a second chance. That emotion resonates especially strongly for me. When I finally finish the call to Carla, having promised faithfully that we'll come and see them soon, I walk back to the reception area with a spring in my step, to find a bleak-faced Megan sat in Andrea's seat.

"Where's Andrea?" I ask, all happiness suddenly draining from me again.

Megan points hesitantly. "She's in the boardroom."

I turn and see that the blinds in there have been closed. "Who's she in there with?"

"Her boyfriend's parents. They've just arrived."

My happiness over Ana is suddenly eclipsed by what I fear has happened to Luke. If his parents have had time to get from Minneapolis, then they must have been called a great deal sooner than I was. I walk to the door and raise a hand to knock, pulling it back as I question whether it's right to intrude into my employees' grief. I decide to wait my turn to be told and turn back to go into my office. And then I stop. I don't want to go in there with such mixed news. On one hand Ana's fine, which is great news for the Grey family, but for the Sawyer family it's clearly a different matter. We can't celebrate while their world falls apart. I want Phoebe; I want to have a piece of Ana close to me right now, but I don't want to face the Holy Trinity of Inquisition; my mother, Mia Kavanagh and the worst one of the lot, Katherine Grey. They'll have every atom of information sucked out of me before I've gotten hands on my daughter. I'm pacing around outside my office trying to work out how to prise Phoebe from them when the door opens and Mia appears carrying my fractious little daughter. I'm there instantly.

"I think she's tired," says Mia handing her over to me. "We can't get her to settle. I thought somebody who smells a little more familiar might help." Phoebs is already rubbing her face against my jacket, her little face screwed up by whatever she's not happy about. Mia pats her back as I hold her. "Is there any news?" She asks quietly. I don't get chance to reply before the boardroom door opens and a tearful Andrea appears.

"Mr Grey?"

I hurry over. "Andrea? What is it?" The anguish in my voice is evident.

"Could I ask a huge favour of you, please?"

"Sure, anything."

She flushes slightly before speaking again. "Could we borrow your plane to go to London?"

_Is that all?_ "I'm going anyway, as soon as I can. Come with me."

"Can Luke's parents come?"

"Absolutely. Have you heard?" I ask gently.

"He's been critically injured." A fresh batch of tears courses down Andrea's face and, shifting Phoebe over into my left arm, I place a hand on Andrea's shoulder and guide her back into the board room, where Luke's parents are waiting. They stand up as come in.

"Mr Grey. I'm Bob Sawyer," says Luke's father. Like Luke he's clearly a former military man, he has the stoic, very upright demeanour that I see in his son. I shake hands with him and his eyes register the surprise that their son's boss is wandering around with a baby. "May I introduce you to my wife, Nancy?"

I shake her hand. "Mrs Sawyer, a pleasure to meet you. I'm so sorry it's under these circumstances." But Nancy Sawyer is not looking at me as little Miss Phoebe is deploying her fifty shades of cute. Finally, after years of being gawped at by women I unwittingly discover the antidote to it. Carry a baby. Why didn't I figure this earlier?

"Luke's in surgery right now and has been for several hours." says Mr Sawyer. He's been hit by flying debris and some of that has caused serious internal damage."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm going to London as soon as I can arrange it and I would be more than happy to take you too."

"Thank you Mr Grey. We'd like to take you up on that offer."

"OK. I'll get on and organise that."

"Have you heard how Mrs Grey is?" Asks Andrea.

"Yes. Not as badly injured as Luke. She's having surgery overnight to remove some glass from her legs." In my arms Phoebe starts to bounce about and as Nancy Sawyer is smiling through her tears, I guess Phoebs is blessing her with one of her smiles.

"Children." Says Nancy Sawyer taking my daughter's little hand. "They give you the biggest thrills and the most heartache, whatever age they are. We're looking forward to our first grandchild." She says, looking proudly at Andrea.

"Would you both excuse me a moment?" I say. "Andrea, may I have a word, please?" We step outside and I close the boardroom door. "I am ordering you home." I say. "Pack a case, get a meal, rest up and I'll get the flight organised for this evening. Get Megan to make reservations in London. If she can't get any of the usual places, get her to call James Sainsbury. He offered Ana his place this week but she wanted to be in walking distance of the convention centre. I'll have someone pick you up this evening and take you to the airport. Where are Mr and Mrs Sawyer staying?"

"At our place. Do we need to book rooms for Ted and Phoebe?"

I hold my daughter a little more tightly. "No. I won't put them through two long flights in quick succession. I don't want Ted being clingy if Ana has to rest. And what do you mean 'do _we_ need to book rooms?' You're not doing anything other than issuing instructions to Megan and going home." I eye my PA sternly.

"Yes, Mr Grey."

I make it back into my office now happy to fill everyone in and ask if my Mom would be kind enough to have Ted and Phoebe for a few more days. By the time they all depart, safe in the knowledge that Ana is OK and Luke is in good hands; Mia, Kate and my Mom have organised to have the children for the entire week.

Later that afternoon Astrid brings Teddy over and he's painted me half a tree's worth of pictures of planes and boats. They're all pale blue and realise that I've unknowingly given my son the idea that all planes and boats and helicopters are white with pale blue trim. I should take him out to see some other ones. I manage to get a little work done, whilst Ted uses my coffee table as a race track for his cars and Phoebe chews everything in sight. At five I call it a day and baby under one arm, Ted grasped firmly by the hand and baby change bag and briefcase over my shoulder, the three of us exit Grey House into a lovely sunny evening. Knowing that Ana's OK makes me able to appreciate it. What I don't appreciate is getting sidestepped by a photographer on sidewalk and I muse on my earlier threat to make better use of the shackles in my playroom.

Our flight leaves at 11.30pm local time, but first there's plenty of time to wrestle Ted into his pyjamas and read four stories. Phoebe is spark out during her evening milk in spite of Ted deciding he's Captain of the Universe and running about with a cape made from a towel around his neck. I worry what I need to do to make sure that he grows up into a confident boy, who knows that he's loved and accepted by us no matter what. He doesn't need to impress me. I don't want him thinking he needs to learn piano just because I play, if he really wants to play the guitar or the drums. Actually, I really want a go at learning the drums. I wonder if I could get away with buying Ted a drum kit as well for his birthday? A full size one obviously, so he grows into it. I grin. Ana is totally right, when I buy toys for Ted I'm buying as much for me as for him. Not that I didn't have a shortage of toys as a boy, but it's like I've gotten a free second go at childhood, and this time I won't screw it up and think nobody loves me.

As we board the jet at SeaTac that evening, Andrea is looking more rested and Mr and Mrs Sawyer are looking a little abashed at the plane that their son regularly flies on. Natalia is her usual attentive but not intrusive self and I read up on the news articles, now that I can look at the pictures without imagining bits of Ana splattered all over Regent Street. I'm not much given to prayers, but as my family and friends are scattered far apart tonight, even the Master of the Universe is asking for a little divine help.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

In the six years that she's worked for me I can think of few trips that Andrea has accompanied me on. She's always back at Grey House behind her desk, as steadfast as the pale quartz sandstone that clads it. I see plenty of other CEOs trailing their assistants around and have always regarded them as an inferior species. I don't need my hand holding, I'm quite capable of emailing my own spreadsheets and I certainly had no call before Ana or since, for the other home-from-home comforts I knew some of them were providing. But, the downside is, is that the woman's had few perks from me and now, as she's coming to the end of her time with me, I'm starting to feel like a really shitty boss for not doing it. Not giving her the bonus of seeing the world while she had to put up with the crap I flung at her.

Andrea has never been to London and neither have Mr and Mrs Sawyer so I instruct Taylor to take us the 'scenic route,' which basically takes in every landmark we can shoe-horn in, save for the part of the city that is now cordoned off. There's the first-time consternation for them about the steering wheel being on the other side of the car and driving on the 'wrong' side of the road, but I've been here so many times now that to me it's just a case of 'when in London.' I don't drive in central London, I leave that to Taylor – I'm not a masochist; but once out of the city, when Ana and I spend time here, I'm happy to drive. Although getting an Audi Q7 down some of the narrow lanes in Thomas Hardy's beloved Dorset has prompted even me to breathe in at times!

We snake our way through the London traffic, which for once is flowing and not behaving like a giant parking lot. Megan has managed to get accommodation organised only a short ride to St Thomas's Hospital on the south bank of the River Thames, opposite the Palace of Westminster, or the Houses of Parliament as it's more commonly known. There can be few more iconic views from any hospital windows than that.

I take the elevator up to the twelfth floor where the private Westminster Unit is located, whilst Sawyer's family go to ICU on the second floor. I haven't come armed with anything other than a painting from Teddy and a picture of the children last night before I put them to bed. Ana doesn't care much for flowers, she'd rather I turned up with a bouquet of sharpened pencils. She adores sharp pencils and uses them to make notes all over the manuscripts she reads.

I get an update on Ana from the nursing staff. She only went down for surgery in the early hours so she's slept most of the day. They show me to Ana's room and I gently push the door open.

She's asleep and the soft twilight of the evening has bathed the room in a pinkish glow that does its best to make the clean, white clinical room look a little more romantic. She's lying on her back, with her face angled over to the left and her hair all fanned out around her. She's dressed in a hospital-issue gown and it's not her best look, she looks so much better in cream-coloured silk. However, the most important thing is the steady rise and fall of her chest that I can see, which indicates that the love of my life is alive, if not exactly well. I move over to the chair that has been placed next to the bed, and just as I go to sit down something in the corner of the room catches my eye. It's her bag and next to it is one of clear plastic with a large white label on it. I switch direction and go over to them, kneeling down to inspect the contents of the plastic bag. It's Ana's clothing and in it the pretty blue bra that I watched her put on yesterday morning is folded neatly on the top. It's blood-stained and so is her blue shirt. Her back pants I can't see the condition of, but at the bottom are her shoes and one of the heels looks like it's been sliced off. Bile rises in my throat and I have to put my hand to my mouth in an effort to stop myself retching. If flying debris did this to one of Ana's shoes, what the hell has it done to her legs? Her large black tote bag beside it is peppered with holes and cuts in the leather. Someone's pulled out what was embedded in it and it looks battle scarred and dirty. I take a peek inside and see her BlackBerry in the inside pocket. The case is blood-stained and so is the surrounding lining. She must have tried to use it in the aftermath of the explosion. I hope she was calling for help, but I know she was probably trying to call me. Making sure that I'm not going nuts before she sees to her own needs. It's her typically unselfish behaviour

I go back to the chair and sink down into it. Her hands are outside the covers and resting by her sides. It looks like there are dressings on her palms, most likely from hitting the sidewalk and her wedding ring is still taped up from surgery. Around her wrist is a white plastic hospital band with her name, date of birth and a bar code running across it. From the swelling, cuts and bruising to her face I can see in an instant that she must have been thrown down with some force. I've had my fair share of bruises from fights as a teenager to know that those are only going to get worse before they get better. A small, neat rectangle of gauze dressing is taped across her nose but I can already see the developing bruises in the sockets of her eyes. When she's awake I am going to kiss every inch of those bruises better and make sure that I speak to John Flynn about whether I should encourage her to see him, to talk about this. In the aftermath of Jack Hyde she saw Flynn a few times. Post-Traumatic Stress isn't something that you should allow to fester.

And then I catch myself. I'm rational and calm. Where's the anger? Where's the sullenness in me because nobody is moving fast enough and I can't control every damn thing? Where's bad mood Christian? Where's demanding answers from the British Prime Minister Christian? Where's raging at Ana because she's put herself in danger for the fucking millionth time, Christian? Where is that man? He is not here. He had to place trust in other people to do the bits he couldn't do. He accepted that everything that could be done was being done. He wanted his children near him, he cared for the others around him and didn't act like an asshole once. OK, so maybe there was a tiny bit of asshole at Heathrow this afternoon, just for a minute because he was tired and just wanted to see Ana. And I'm stunned at myself. I've grown up. I've fucking grown up and it's all this sleeping angel's fault! Oh fuck it that she's asleep! I get up and angling my head around to the right position I kiss her gently on the lips. There's no response from her other than the kiss parts her lips slightly. She's as spark out as her daughter was last night when I put our baby girl to bed. I grin and give a low chuckle. I try again, focussing on her beautiful bottom lip, the one that started all this in the first place and suddenly there's a hand in my hair and a mouth that's trying to kiss my face off. My Sleeping Beauty is awake!

I pull back a little and see reddened eyes that have the tell-tale streak marks of dried tears running through make-up. Both hands are in my hair now, I sit myself on the bed and the pair of us lose ourselves in more tears and kisses.

Ana's chest is wrapped up in a supportive elastic dressing and her lower legs too are both wrapped in bandages, the dressings where the lacerations are, stand out in relief. The front of her legs are mostly fine, save for a pair of skinned knees where she hit the sidewalk, but the backs to just above her knees are peppered with square dressings underneath the bandages where flying debris from the explosion sliced into her legs. And then she floors me completely, by telling me how she escaped with such minor injuries compared to the others - compared to Sawyer in ICU, ten floors below us.

"Sawyer threw himself on top of me and knocked me to the ground. He took the full force of the blast." She said through sobs. "How is he?"

"Critical but stable I believe is the official description. His parents and Andrea are with him."

When I employed Luke Sawyer it was on the understanding that he would protect me or my family to the best of his ability. Almost losing his life in protecting Ana is a deep debt I now owe the man. I mentally scale up our offer of paying for their wedding to include a lifetime's worth of vacations wherever they want. How do I ever thank him for this?

"Have you seen him?" Asks Ana.

"Not yet. "He has three visitors and you only have me."

"I had a visitor this afternoon."

"Did you?" I furrow my brow.

"A woman who helped me with Sawyer in the aftermath, her name's Maria." Ana says quietly. "She's in a ward downstairs, but she came to find out how I was, seeing as I'm visiting the UK and had nobody to come visit me. I said that you were on your way."

"That's very kind of her."

"We talked." Ana says, distractedly.

"About what?" I ask gently.

"About what happened. I could only think of you and how much you would worry and how much I missed you and the children and how much I loved you and she asked me if I ever spared a thought for myself?"

"Well I can tell you the answer to that, no you don't. You never have any regard for your own safety." I smile indulgently.

"I'm sorry." She says.

"What for?"

"For this."

"For going to a toy store to buy your children gifts during your lunchbreak? Why would you need to apologise for that?" I gently stroke the uninjured side of her face. "Ana, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, there's nothing more to it than that." She closes her eyes and tears bud under her lashes again. I kiss them.

"You're not angry with me?" She whispers.

I shake my head. "God, no. And I hope you haven't been lying here in fear that I would be." I say. "But God help me if I ever meet the person who planted that bomb. So you needed help with Sawyer?" I query.

"Maria helped me to get out from under him. I was trapped underneath. He was unconscious. She made sure he was breathing and got the medics to him quickly as soon as they arrived. He's a big guy. I don't know how Andrea manages." Her face is suddenly brightened by a cheekily lopsidedly smile. Half her face is too swollen to move properly. "I like my men a little more… agile." She whispers.

"Do you now, Mrs Grey?"

She smiles. "Can you help me sit up?"

I help her sit up and I sit as close to her as I can. She's a little more awake now.

"You won't leave me too long, will you?" She says.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, go all 'hands-off' and treat me as if I'm fragile. I need you so much right now. I need to know that you still love me, even when I look this hideous."

As lightly as I can I kiss her swollen right cheek. "This will heal and fade. Some scars are more than skin deep and you kiss mine away every single day."

"I haven't done it today." She gripes. "Or yesterday, or whatever the day was before…

"It was Wednesday."

"Or Tuesday, or Monday, even."

"That's a lot of kissing, Mrs Grey." I murmur.

"Well, I'd better get started." She whispers and reaches for my shirt buttons. I don't know why, but I pull away.

She looks at me with eyes that I know see right through to my core. "It's not just me that's hurt, is it?" She says gently and brings her bandaged hands up to my face. "Please can I touch you, Christian?"

I'm shocked by the unfamiliar question. It's been so long since I've heard it and then I understand what she's seen and what I haven't been aware of. I've gone into self-preservation mode, my barriers have gone back up and I'm unconsciously back in the time when her touch was something I feared, rather than wanted. So much has happened in the last two days that I've needed to protect myself from and distance myself from the emotion of. There was the encounter with Susannah, the intrusion of Kate into our playroom and then being faced with the possibility, that the only person who can touch me had been killed by a group of people who hate everything I represent in this world. The recognition of that tension helps me to exhale a breath that I'm unaware that I've been holding.

I nod and she tries again with my buttons. She doesn't break eye contact and this time I don't flinch. I am safe with Ana, I can be vulnerable with her and admit that bits of my dark past coming back and blending with the light create shades of gray that unsettle me. Kate unsettled me. Four years ago I'd have thought nothing of doing that in the playroom with her. But I'm not that man anymore and she intruded into mine and Ana's sacred space.

Ana gently pulls my shirt out from my pants and lets it hang open. Her eyes seek my permission as she starts again from scratch and gently places her injured palm over my heart. Both she and I can feel that it's hammering with anxiety. I lift it off and kiss the pad of gauze that covers her injury and replace her hand on my heart. She smiles, leans forward and kisses three of my own scars. Then she slowly and lightly trails her fingers over me and it's the most intimate and calming thing she could do. We've done a great many intimate things, but this is the pinnacle. I need her to touch me as much as she needs to touch me. This keeps the past where it needs to stay, the present where I'm living and the future as the thing we make plans together for. Her freely-given touch is thousands of dollars-worth of the best therapy. She dips her head and kisses more of my scars and I rest a hand on the bed frame behind her, running my other hand through her hair. I feel something sharp and pull out a small shard of glass from her scalp, the tip of it red with blood.

"Ugh. I've been doing that all day." She says. "Put it in the bowl." On her bedside table there is small bowl containing half a dozen or so tiny shards of glass.

"That's awful." I'm appalled.

"That's nothing to what was stuck in Sawyers' head."

And I realise once more that I owe Sawyer so very much.

"Can you take me down to see him, tomorrow?" She says. "I need to say thank you."

"Of course. I hit upon an idea as a gift whilst talking to Andrea. It's their dream to get married in Lapland at Christmas. So I figured we could organise that for them. Andrea would like us to go too."

"We can't go and not take Ted," She smiles, running her hands around my back and embracing me. "Can you imagine the sulk? It would put yours over our wedding vows to shame." I grin and Ana presses her uninjured cheek against my chest. "Lapland at Christmas. That is such a cool idea." She says.

"I have a better idea." I whisper. "When you're better, you, me, some fur and the Ice Hotel in Sweden."

"Yes!" Ana instantly sit back up, her eyes on fire. "I've been reading about that place. My hot man on ice, mmm!" She casts a glance at the door. "I have a slightly less glamorous idea. You, me, the ensuite next door and the way we make love when I'm pregnant. There's a lock on it, I checked." She smiles ruefully.

"You're so tired." I stroke her face.

She shrugs. "I'm so in need of you. I need the attention of my own personal magician."

"You mean Physician?"

"No. Nobody who's watched you sew on a button would ever let you do surgery." She grins.

I feign being wounded and then pick her up, take her next door and unleash my own particular brand of healing magic on her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The four of us exit St Thomas's Hospital into a warm May night. I know from Ana that this is unexpected, the weather in London has not been kind this week, but the weather gods appear to be smiling on us this evening. It's late on Friday night and if there was any justice, we should all be talking walks along the River Thames with our respective partners. But Ana is sleeping peacefully after I unintentionally exhausted her and Luke is sleeping peacefully with the aid of a healthy dose of morphine. He's giving the staff less cause for concern and there's every chance he'll be out of the ICU by the end of the weekend. I stopped by there after Ana had fallen asleep and listened with bewilderment to the catalogue of repairs that had been made to Luke's body over the course of ten hours. There was no doubt about it, a more slender person such as Ana would not have survived.

Bob and Nancy opt to take advantage of this unexpected visit to London and take the suggestion I make of walking along the South Bank to Millennium Bridge and across to St Paul's Cathedral. I can get Taylor to pick them up from there later. Nancy's eyes are as wide as saucers at being hit by every iconic London image she's ever seen, and now it's in the flesh so to speak. But buoyed by her son's good progress she feels that it would be a long way to come to not to admire the view. Andrea and I opt to return to the hotel and as we climb into the back of the Audi, Andrea furrows her brow again as Taylor gets in the 'wrong' seat.

"Doesn't this confuse you?" She asks him.

"No." Says Taylor. "Mrs Grey likes London, we come here often, and once you know where you're going you just follow the lane markings, there's very little to it." He's underplaying it somewhat. At times driving in London is fucking mental.

"But how do you know where you're going? There's no grid system, it's just chaos."

"Taylor's actually part GPS." I joke. Andrea laughs and then blushes.

"What?" I ask.

"You. Cracking jokes. It's so weird."

"I do a lot of weird stuff these days," and I smack my dry lips. "I really want a beer. Do you want to go to a pub?"

Andrea shakes her head and caresses her bump. "No. I just want to go to bed. But don't let me stop you going to one."

I check my watch. "No, I'll pick something up on the way back. Taylor, can you stop at a Tesco, I want to grab some beer."

"Yes Mr Grey." Taylor weaves his way through the streets and deposits me outside one of the less glamorous, but deeply functional aspects of London. I peruse the bottled beer selection and select half a dozen at random. This is Ana's habit although her selection criteria is based on which labels she likes the look of. She has quite the taste for beer when she's in London, along with an unhealthy need to eat fish and chips sat on a park bench. It's one of the things we love about coming here. Back home in Seattle there's so much about us that's expected, because of the jobs we do and the people we are. Over here nobody could give a fuck. We can spend all evening in pub, grab fish and chips on the way home and deposit the papers in the trash, before gliding through the doors of our elegant hotel as if we've been dining at The Ivy. We do dine at the Ivy, but sometimes it's more fun to dine _al fresco_ courtesy of Harry Ramsden. I pay and climb back into the car with a clinking bag of bottles.

"How much do you drink?" Andrea admonishes me.

"Who are you, my mother?" I grin and Andrea drops her head in embarrassment. "Would it be easier for you if I snapped and ordered you around?" I ask.

Andrea shakes her head. "No. You seem to have the balance right these days. You're focussed when you need to be, but now you know when to kick back and let the air out a little. It's just…" She shakes her head.

"What?"

"Disarming." She demurs and all of a sudden I get a flash of the soft underbelly of my unflinchingly brilliant and professional PA. Which she immediately shuts down – maddening woman! I like coy Andrea, I could have re-activated my long-dormant big brother teasing skills that I used to use on Mia, if she were staying.

"You used to be an extremely serious man. But despite that I could never work out why you didn't have a girlfriend. Even the biggest asshole CEOs have partners." She says suddenly. "Obviously, I thought you were gay at first, but then as time went on you didn't reveal yourself to have a boyfriend, either. When you get to my level you get a working knowledge of someone's personal relationships and who's doing who on the side. But with you, there was nobody. Not that some incredible-looking women and men didn't strut about like peacocks trying to get your attention. But you were never interested. With you it was all about the business. I came to the conclusion that work was both your life and your love and that you must be celibate. God, why am I babbling all this at you? It must be my pregnancy brain. Or the recklessness that comes from being so close to leaving that it makes no difference if you fire my ass for insubordination."

"Babble away Miss Parker, I'm riveted. And you have never once let me down. Whoever takes you job has some fucking great shoes to fill, so pick well."

"About that." She adds. "I think you should close down on them at first. Give them a taste of the serious Mr Grey. You're their CEO, not their best friend. They'll only know if they can cut it if you put the pressure on."

"Wise words, Andrea."

She smiles and shakes her head slightly. "There was nothing more character-building than when you were being at your most impossibly demanding and I lived through it to tell the tale. It's odd, but there were times when I wanted you to test me, just for the gratification of knowing that you'd be pleased with me when I could do anything you asked. Oh fuck, where did that come from?! Shit, I'm sorry Mr Grey. Actually, just fire my ass right now and save me the embarrassment of having to face you tomorrow. Why on earth did I say that?"

She chastises herself and I cannot believe what she's just said and the dark alley that this conversation has ended up in. She cannot possibly know the reason why I never had a girlfriend, but she's unwittingly alluded to it with her candid comments about her job. What is more surprising about her comments is not what she's said. That she gets satisfaction from being tested is a concept I can get my head around easily, but the reaction that it produces in me is curious. There's no thrill attached to her words. As much as Ana and I role play in our private times, I am not the man I was anymore. My mission is to explore my wife's limits for her pleasure, I have no wish to dominate her the way I did the day she fell into my office in a whirl of hair and guileless blue eyes. I don't want to be the Dominant, but I do need to make sure that Andrea's replacement knows that when I say jump, their only question back to me is 'how high, Mr Grey?" I need a certain level of control, I do have exacting standards from my staff and they have to be able to take it. But I'm not going to make their life a living hell in the process. I've found a middle way in my private life and I'm sure I can find a middle way in my working life.

I muse on her words. "I'm sure there are people out there who would pay good money to be subjected to the ordering around you got for free every working day."

Andrea scoffs. "Tell me about it. There are some pretty sick tickets out there, I can tell you."

"Oh?" I play the innocent. "Tell me more Miss Parker. Is that something you and Luke are into?"

Andrea is open-mouthed and speechless. "I can't talk about sex with you, Mr Grey!" She gasps.

"Why not, you've clearly had some." I say eyeing the result of the love-making session growing in her belly.

"I've had a lot!" She snaps indignantly and then smacks her hand across her mouth in horror at her faux pas.

"Have you now Miss Parker?" I grin and I can't see for sure but I'm pretty sure that my PA is now puce and mortified.

She hides her head in her hands. "I can't talk about this with you!"

"Why not? I like talking about sex." My competent, professional PA is a mortified speechless wreck it's wonderfully funny.

"It's just…" Andrea waves her hands around searching for the right words. And then her shoulders sag and she looks at me defeated. "Oh surely you can see it?" She says sadly.

"See what?"

"That virtually every woman at Grey House is the same. Or we were until Mrs Grey came along. And even now some of them still hold out vain hope."

"Sorry, I don't understand."

"We all fell in love with you at some point. We all hoped that we would be the one to catch your eye, to have a chance with you. Any of us would do anything for you - although stay away from Janice in Accounts, that isn't legal."

Now I'm the speechless one.

"Have you ever wondered why GEH has one of the lowest workforce turnover rates in Washington State? Have you ever wondered why every woman comes to work immaculately groomed and dressed and the place looks like Vogue? We were all trying to impress you. And it turns out that all we had to do was pitch up wearing WalMart!" She rolls her eyes. "They'll kill me for telling you this." She shakes her head. "I'm a traitor. Just lock me in the Tower of London and forget about me."

It takes me a second or two to find my voice. "Andrea. I would never do anything so unprofessional. It's an unwritten rule of mine not to enter into personal relationships with any of my staff. I've seen it cause problems in too many other people's organisations."

She nods. "I know."

"I'm sorry, but I've never noticed that my female staff looked like runway models, but then again I never knew until yesterday that Barney Welch is married with twin daughters. I guess I haven't always been the most considerate or observant boss and I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I wasn't looking for love until it fell at my feet."

"Nobody blames you. Well, possibly we do, for now forcing us to work for you to fund our Manolo Blahnik addictions. Mrs Grey is very beautiful and WalMart or no, anybody could see that the moment the elevator doors opened."

"I know. And she never sees it, which baffles me."

"What? She's doesn't appreciate that she's a goddess among women?"

"No."

"Ow." She says, pressing down on her abdomen.

"Foot in your ribs?"

"Yeah."

We arrive at the hotel and I take Andrea's hand as she slowly climbs out of the car. I drape her arm over mine and escort her through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. The lift doors close and unlike being in one with Ana, there is no charge between us. Andrea's a colleague and she'll remain a trusted friend when she leaves GEH and that's how it should be. I am amused by her unintentional frankness this evening and galled that working together could have been so much more fun and it's my fault for not making that happen. My fault for making her keep this wonderful candidness in check. I make a mental note to get a background check on Janice, though. If she has interests in my previous lifestyle I would like to know that our paths did not cross.

But Miss Parker may be pleased to know that I am not completely unobservant. I did notice something one particular evening about two and a half years ago now, when Sawyer accompanied Ana up to my office after work. In the time it took for main reception to alert Andrea to their arrival and the elevator to travel to our floor, it was strange that the top two buttons of Miss Parkers' blouse had come undone, her skirt was two inches higher than it had been and her hair had inexplicably fallen out of its knot. I could tell her that I'd noticed, but perhaps now I'll save it and give it to their best man for the wedding speeches.

We exit at the top floor and stroll down to her room where I deposit her, a very physically tired and emotionally exhausted woman.

"Thank you for bringing us over here," She says. "It's made things so much easier to be able to see Luke and be reassured that he's making progress."

"It's my pleasure."

"Don't drink all that beer at once." She warns.

"In the temporary absence of my wife, it's good to know that there is someone looking out for me."

"Everyone said that all you needed was a good woman."

"And I got one."

"I bet she cracks the whip in your house."

This conversation has wandered into that alley again. "She handles me." I observe dryly.

"Oh she does handle you Mr Gray, expertly. And for as long as I can, I shall continue to handle your business activities."

"Expertly, as always. Goodnight Andrea."

"Goodnight, Mr Grey."

"Call me Christian, please."

Her eyes bug as if she's just been given a precious gift. "I… I… couldn't."

"You can. Say it."

"Christian."

"Now to my face. The carpet's called Axminster."

A giggle bursts through her lips. And then she clutches her stomach and pales as a stream of amniotic fluid gushes down her legs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

With my arm protectively supporting Ana, who is still finding walking painful, we make our way out to the marquee. We've not been out socially since we returned from London, but Ana was adamant that we shouldn't miss my parent's annual charity event for Coping Together. I'm not surprised it was this she wanted to come to. The mask she can wear covers up the remaining bruising from her fractured nose and cheekbone. She's still very conscious of it and has kept herself largely out of the public eye for the last few weeks. I don't know if it's the liberation from being able to hide her bruises, but there's something about Ana tonight, something that means that I simply can't take my hands off her. There's a knowing smile on her face that makes me want to scoop her up and take her down to the boathouse or up to my old bedroom. Either way I know I won't last until the fireworks at midnight. There's a confident aura radiating from her and a positive charge that renders me powerless to resist her attraction. Even now, after coming up to four years of marriage, something like this, a fresh intangible quality to things makes me all the more in love with her. And I'm insanely curious to discover what secret she's hiding, because she is, I know it. I may have to sweetly torture it out of her later.

Even though I only have eyes for Ana, it appears that everyone else only has them for me. I'm under an uncomfortable level of scrutiny this evening and it's all Katherine Grey's fault. Her article on me appeared this morning in the _Seattle Times_ Saturday Supplement and whilst Ana loves it (I know there was a certain amount of wifely collaboration), and there's an escalation in the tiresome admiring glances from women, it's unnerving to be on the receiving end of so many hostile looks from men. According to Elliot, never one to mince his words, I have drop-kicked the standard into the stratosphere and now all women want men to worship the ground they walk on, fly to their side in a crisis, take the children to their place of work, look good in a suit and deliver babies who arrive before the ambulance can get there. There was nothing we could do, it all happened so fast and it was into my hands that little Emma Sawyer made her appearance. The little girl is six weeks old now and thankfully shows no sign of being mentally scarred by the experience. The same cannot be said for Andrea, who still can't look me in the eye. Luke and I have reached an understanding. He helped my wife and I helped his girlfriend and we see eye to eye over that. But it's a slightly awkward situation. He accidentally left a bruise in the shape of an outstretched hand over my wife's breast and I had to rip off his girlfriend's panties when she refused to take them off.

Elliot was indignant on the phone this morning. In the aftermath of my baby-delivering antics, he says, the era of the charming but useless rogue is over. His parting shot was that if I did indeed turn out to know more than could be written a postage stamp about sex, he'd disown me. I guess I'll have to get used to never speaking to my brother again.

Interestingly, as we reach the marquee, it's Elliot who catches my eye. He's on his own on the far side looking uncomfortable and I recognise the familiar annoyance of a man who knows what he wants but can't get near his wife to get it. Kate is on over the other side of the marquee, holding court amongst a posse of women. Ana sees Kate and slides out from under my arm.

"Go and talk to Elliot, he looks miserable. You know how much he hates these things. I want to say thank you to Kate for the fabulous article she's written."

"You mean that you've written. I'd know your phrasing anywhere, woman." I smile.

Ana eyes me speculatively, her secret smile grows a little wider and she deliberately sinks her top teeth gently into her bottom lip. Oh fuck, I'm not going to last until the entrees at this rate. She has me on fire! "Can you blame me?" She says. "I want to tell everybody about what I have and they don't." She grins and this gloating is so unlike her, so not my Ana and I wonder for a moment if the bang on her head has caused more damage than just a nasty headache.

I'm suddenly uncharacteristically shy, as if I've been pushed out into a spotlight that I don't want to be in. "But I belong to you." I say quietly. "I don't want to be paraded around like a piece of merchandise."

She narrows her eyes and the fire in her burns hotter. "Oh, you are mine, Christian," she says softly. "And I'm not going to let anyone _ever _forget that."

I give an involuntary laugh and realise that she's repeating words that I could easily have said to her four years ago. I narrow my eyes. "Who are you and what have you done with Ana Grey?"

Ana's pants-busting smile gets wider. "Oh she's not too far away, baby. I'm just enjoying being Mistress of my Universe tonight. Now, go talk to Mr Sad Act over there."

I obey and wonder if this is what I'm reacting to, to the thrill of roles subtly being reversed? Of me being the one claimed and stamped as the possession of Anastasia Grey. In our topsy-turvy way of going about things it's just another twist and damn she's turning me on with it!

I make my way through the crowd and watch as Ana is greeted by the gaggle of women around Kate, as if she's the all-conquering hero. There are whispered comments, giggles and none-too subtle glances in my direction. If they really knew me though, they wouldn't be so quick to approve.

Susannah and the difficulties that I have created there have provided many long conversations over the last few weeks between Ana and myself. Ana said no to me talking to Susannah and then explained that it was because she wanted to talk to Susannah herself. She wanted to know what Susannah wanted, of how she wanted to be treated, so that I wouldn't steamroller her into getting things all my own way. In the end the two of them put together what can only be described as a post-sub acquaintance agreement and suggested that we use it as guidelines, should I meet any other women that I once had a contractual relationship with. It's not very elaborate, it consists of me being polite, respectful and taking an interest in who they are now, not who they were when I knew them. They've changed, I've changed and the world has moved on. As for Ana and Susannah, they left me with Ted and Phoebe and went out for coffee this morning. Once again I am completely humbled by my wife's ability to open the deep dark pit of my former life and make friends with it.

I finally reach Elliot.

"There's nothing for it, Christian. I'm just going to have to kill you." He says matter-of-factly. "You are a traitor to mankind. You and your metrosexuality or whatever the fuck it's called."

"My what?" I scoff.

"You. This being in touch with your feminine side thing that you do. This is what it's all about, this is what women want. Men who are gay but not gay. Did mom give you shots of oestrogen with your Cornflakes, or something?"

"No." I smirk. "And I think I've firmly established that I'm not gay. What do you mean by 'gay but not gay'?"

"You know. That special ability gay men have to be able to talk to women properly. They're good at fashion and… personal grooming."

I furrow my brow. "I spend precisely nothing on my hair, Ana cuts it. And my razor blades come from the supermarket. I admit that I have my wife pick out my clothes, but that's because Ana's the one that has to look at me. I'd live in jeans given the chance."

Across the room Ana gently takes Kate aside from the group and they walk out of the marquee together in a sisterly fashion that the pair of us know well.

"Uh oh," says Elliot. "They're planning something. That's us vacationing together again next summer." I laugh and beside me I sense a mood shift in my brother. He angles himself toward me and looks around the room possibly checking that no-one can hear. "You know, I've always joked about things of a… private nature. But recently, me and Kate well… we've gotten a little stale. You know?" I nod. "And thinking back to that comment you made at my anniversary event; I know it was a joke, but do you guys ever… spice things up a little?"

"Occasionally." I admit.

"So that would be OK, you think?"

"What are you asking for, my permission?" I smile. "This is something you need to talk about with Kate."

"I know, but…" Elliot rolls his shoulders. "I don't want to feel like a freak, like we're the only ones doing it."

"You think every couple in this room sticks to vanilla and you guys would be weird for going for the raspberry swirl option?"

Elliot's eyes light up. "I love that analogy! We want to try a different flavour."

"And there are so many." I grin. "But don't underestimate the power of great vanilla."

Elliot stands next to me, our backs against the bar and together we survey the room. "So what d'you think." He says, waving his beer at the crowd. "Who's a straight vanilla guy and who's chowing down on a Chocolate Fudge Sundae? Baker, what do you think about him?"

"I'd rather not think about him, thanks."

"I know, but do you think he plays it straight?"

I look at the CEO of another one of Seattle's companies and at his bored wife stood next to him, who's been casting glances in my direction over the last few minutes. "Vanilla." I say. "Look at his wife."

"She's checking you out."

"She wouldn't be if Baker was keeping her satisfied. That's my guess."

"You think?"

"Look at the difference between them and Ted Gilbert and his wife."

"Oh my god, they're almost having sex right there."

"They are having sex, that's several hours' worth of foreplay they're putting in. I bet you any money they leave before the end."

Elliot leans over to me. "So is that your thing, foreplay? I notice that you're real intense with Ana at these events."

I'll give him this one. "Sometimes it's the best way to get through a really boring dinner." I wink.

Across the room I see Kate and Ana reappear and from the way they walk closely together I know instantly that something's happened. But it's not until they get closer that I can see the nature of it. Ana is wickedly triumphant, while Kate is flushed, her lips are parted and walking in a way that I've seen only one other woman walk through this marquee before. My wife has turned sex-therapist and shared our boring dinner contingency plan with Kate! So this was her big secret? This is why she's radiating enough pheromones tonight to attract half the Pacific Northwest? I can't keep the smile off my face and as they near us I go to her, kiss her gently under her ear. "You wicked girl." I murmur. "I love you." And a grin the size of the Cheshire Cat appears on her face. "Those aren't ours are they?" I add.

"No. I bought her a new set." She says quietly. "And that's not all." She murmurs.

"Oh?" I eye her.

"We'll talk about it later. It's a plan. But if you say yes, I'll need your help with it."

"OK." I'm intrigued, although not as much as I am desperate, to get her away from here and to somewhere more private. Kate and Elliot disappear into the crowd and as they go I see Elliot rest his hand in the small of Kate's back. They get talking to another couple and when he thinks that no one's looking, Elliot runs his hand over his wife's behind. My brother is out to get lucky tonight. "So that's grandchild number five on the way." I nod at them and smile at Ana.

"Six." She replies and briefly places her hand on her lower abdomen.

So that's why she's driving me wild, she's pregnant! In my heart the midnight fireworks go off and I pull her gently to me, kissing every exposed piece of skin on her face and neck that I can. After London she was due her shot and we agreed to let it run out, but it's a shock that she's pregnant so soon. A lovely shock! I know now that children just make things better and in my heart I want to ask Ana for just one more. Four would be the perfect number. The Cheshire Cat grin has transferred to my face now and I lose any hope of making it even as far as the appetiser. I cup her face in my hands. "We need to celebrate." I whisper. "Boathouse or bedroom?" I ask and kiss her lips gently.

"Bedroom." She replies. I wrap my arm around her and together we stroll nonchalantly out of the marquee, only to be accosted by Mia.

"I don't want you to deliver my baby," she says indignantly, cradling her bump. "But I do have a few girlfriends who'd like to know whether you're available to play midwife?"

I look suitably appalled,

"Well if you will go to London and turn into Dr Kildare," she continues. "What do you expect?"

"I little respect that I'm married and that Miss Parker and I really didn't have a choice in the matter."

"Yeah, whatever. Where are you two sneaking off to anyway, the party's behind you."

"Ana's legs are aching." I say. "She's going to have a rest until dinner's served."

"I'll come with you."

"No you won't." I assert and fix her with a stare.

"Ooh, Christian's off to do naughty things in his bedroom." She says in a singsong voice. "I'm telling mom."

I narrow my eyes. "You do and I'll tell her about you doing naughty things in yours with Paul Evans when you were fourteen."

Mia blanches. "How do you know about that?" She hisses.

"My room's next to yours and the walls aren't that thick."

She bristles. "Touché. Go on, go and massage Ana's legs or whatever that's a euphemism for." She hops from foot to foot. "I could do with Ethan to massage mine."

"Well, keep the noise down." I grin and my sister rolls her eyes. Just then, we notice Elliot guiding Kate none too slowly across the lawn to the house.

"Where's she off to?" Says Ana with consternation and folds her arms. "Kate!" She calls. Kate stops and turns back. "I said not until the end of the meal."

"I can't last that long!" Hisses Kate.

"OK. As it's your first time." Says Ana and Kate hurries off with Elliot. I stare at her. "What?" She asks in response to my questioning eyes. "Basic training." She shrugs, as if I should know this.

"On _Kate?_" I whisper and then arch an eyebrow. "Are you gay Mrs Grey?"

She grins, throws her arms around me and kisses me deeply. "Are you going to throw that back in my face for the rest of my life?" She laughs.

"On every May 9th, yes." I run my hands down the sides of her body and feel the wonderful curves of her hips.

"OK, this is some private joke you two have. I'm leaving." Mia says. She takes a step away and then steps back to us. She's pouting. "Look, if you're really are going to have sex before dinner, keep the noise down will you?" She looks disconsolate.

"What's the matter?" Asks Ana gently. "Aren't you and Ethan having any?"

"No." She groans. "He's too afraid of hurting the baby and I'm too… big."

"You see!" says Ana. "This is why mine and Kate's idea for our column will totally work!"

My heart sinks. "What column?"

"Sex tips for couples in the _Seattle Times_ Saturday Supplement. Totally anonymous and written in a jokey, light-hearted style, but with enough information to help those of us who've been together a while. One of the regular columnists is leaving in two months' time and Kate wants to pitch the idea to the editor."

"Oh my god that's a brilliant idea!" Says Mia. "Write lots for pregnant women, like… now!"

"Yeah, you and I need to have a talk, Mia. You need to be having sex because pregnant sex is the best…"

"Woah, Ana!" I say and put my hands up.

"Oh, don't get prudish, Christian." Snaps Mia. Ana raises an eyebrow. "Women totally need this." Mia continues. "What does a man know about a woman's orgasm for god's sake? I'm sure Ethan thinks they come in packets." Mia looks at Ana with a focussed stare. "So are you telling me that it's totally OK for Ethan and me to be having sex?"

"Yes." Replies Ana.

"OK." Says Mia, cheerily. "Please excuse me, I need to find my husband."

"Oh Mia?" I call after her. She stops and turns around. "Keep the noise down." I smile.

"Back atcha Christian." And she scampers away.

I turn to Ana and put my arm around her as we continue our slow saunter into the house. "So, Mrs Grey. Are you telling me that everything I've taught you over the last four years is eventually going to find its way into the _Seattle Times?_"

"That's the basic idea, totally anonymously, of course. But only if you're happy with me doing it."

"I'm not wild about it." I admit. "I really don't want certain people to know the breadth of my knowledge, so to speak."

"Well, I don't think they will. Obviously, Kate knows certain things about you, but this isn't going to be me and you dispensing the advice. Kate's going to explore things with Elliot, so as I see it, this will be Kate and Elliot's voyage of discovery into…"

"Raspberry swirl." I smile. "So, what's your part in it?"

"Obviously, Kate's going to need some prompts." Ana seems to sag and I support her a little more as we climb the stairs to my room. "So," she says sadly. "You're going to have to tell me how the magic works." We reach the top of the stairs and stand outside my old bedroom. I remove my mask, gently untie hers and run my fingers down her unbruised cheek. She leans into them and I can see that she feels sad that something will be spoiled once she knows exactly how I do the things I do to her.

"Well, Mrs Grey." I say gently. "Perhaps it's time to move up to the advanced magic." I hear her breath catch.

"There's more?" She gasps. Her eyes sparkle and the fire in them increases a thousand degrees. Oh, what she does to me.

"For you, my love, there is always more." I open the bedroom door and take her hand. "Come, Mrs Grey."

**The End**

_**Thank you for reading!**_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_**You can read Andrea's story about Emma's arrival in 'Scarlet and Grey' ID 9425612  
**_

_**Also check out 'Walking Away' which is a prequel to 'The Devil's Kitchen'  
**_

Thank you very much again for taking the time to read this. Laters baby!

**Rachel x**


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